Buffybot's Birthday Adventure
by keswindhover
Summary: Buffybot has a very exciting birthday.
1. Default Chapter

**Buffybot's Birthday Adventure**

**DISCLAIMER**: These characters are not mine, but I'm just poking fun.

**RATING**: PG-13 for mention of sex.

**PAIRINGS**: None.  
**SPOILERS**: None. This is set pre-season 6.  
**DISTRIBUTION**: Ask me first - but I'm going to say yes.

**FEEDBACK**: Yes, please -  
**PROPS**: MissMurchison and Chartophile for the beta. Thanks!

**NOTES: **This story is now complete, as at 16 March 2005.

_**Chapter 1 - Even The Longest Journey Begins With a Single Step (Well, Normally)**_

The Buffybot was excited. Very excited. Very, very, very excited.

She skipped merrily down Revello Drive with a song in her heart and a smile on her lips. She waved merrily to her neighbours as went, and some of them even waved back. Plus Mrs Bercowski's pink poodle Trixie barked at her, but in a friendly way.

Whee! thought Buffybot to herself, life was sure fun. She battled evil by night, and attended catering college by day. And every day in every way she was becoming a more and more useful member of society. Her face grew sad for a minute when she recalled that Willow had banned her from joining the Girl Scouts of America - she wanted achievement badges, and lots of them! Plus, she wanted to go camping, and sleep out under the stars, and roast marshmallows (though they were bound to make a nasty mess in her insides if she actually swallowed them).

But Willow said she was too old, or at least she looked too old, so no Girl Scout badges for her. She couldn't pretend it hadn't been a disappointment. Still, life wasn't perfect, she knew that - and a Bot just had to roll with the punches sometimes. She'd tried not to be too sad, but she guessed she _had_ drooped a bit, because earning badges was just like the coolest thing. And that's when Tara had said they ought to do something special for her birthday.

Buffybot skipped again as she thought about it. Strictly speaking today wasn't her birthday of course, since she'd woken only a few months ago - but it _was_ her motherboard's birthday. Last time she'd plugged herself into Willow's laptop to do a systems check, Willow had pointed out her motherboard's "0900234562" serial number, and explained the first four digits gave the date of manufacture - 0900 was September 2000, which had made it nearly a year old. It was very, very exciting - she hadn't realised different bits of her were different ages. Though Willow had looked up the motherboard make and model on the internet - and apparently it only had a three year warranty, which was a bit alarming. Buffybot patted her motherboard mentally, determined to give it plenty of loving care. As Tara said, it was sure to last much longer than that, with her to look after it. It was only poor lonely, dusty motherboards stuck in overheated and underventilated appliances that went to an early meeting with that Blue Screen of Death she'd heard such scary things about.

So, today was September 1, 2001, and she was going hiking! With Tara! For her birthday! And she was going to learn earth magic instead of roasting marshmallows, which was probably even more fun. She was going to learn earth magic, which was probably even more fun than roasting marshmallows.

Buffybot mentally flicked through her 'Book of Wilderness' tips for the umpteenth time. She certainly hoped that they didn't get lost in the wilderness, of course, or run out of food and water; and it would be terrible if Tara broke her ankle, or was knocked unconscious by a rampaging moose. But if any of those circumstances arose she was equipped to deal with it, by golly! She could plot their direction by the stars, tell a poisonous plant at 50 paces, and spot the place to dig for nutritious tubers. She was well versed in the theory - if not the practice admittedly, of splinting broken bones, and the correct treatment for concussion. And she knew how to set traps for rabbits, and make spears for hunting fish - though that seemed a bit cruel. But if it would keep Tara alive, she'd do it, even if the rabbits were really cute and fluffy, and made little squeaking noises, and had big brown button eyes, and velvet twitching noses ... she faltered. Hopefully, no cuniculicide would be called for. Tara liked vegetables after all.

She gave a little skip, as she powered down the street to The Magic Box to borrow Mr Giles' backpack, camping stove and nesting set of billy cans. She was hoping for a machete as well, or a least a neat little throwing axe. Buffybot giggled to herself, and slashed imaginary lianas with her imaginary machete. Swoosh! Swoosh! She giggled again; by this time tomorrow, she would be Backwoods Buffybot, Queen of the Jungle.

Buffybot skipped through the door of the Magic Box, and into the training room. Xander and Anya were having sex on the vaulting horse.

"Hi guys!" cried Buffybot, glad to see her friends were enjoying themselves.

Xander screamed and toppled backwards off the horse.

"Oh no!" Buffybot rushed forward, and peered down at Xander, as he lay writhing on the floor, ankles hobbled together by his pants. "Did you break anything?" she asked, ready to put her new fracture splinting skills into action.

"He certainly wrenched something," said Anya, sliding gingerly off the vaulting horse, and wincing. She glared down at Xander. "She only said, 'Hi guys!' Anyone would think she'd goosed you with a cattle prod."

Buffybot's eyes grew round. "I would never prod Xander's bottom," she said reproachfully. "Only demons' bottoms!"

Xander regained his feet and swiftly buttoned his pants, blushing furiously. "I was nervous," he said defensively. "I told you I was nervous. Anyone could have come in and caught us."

Anya rolled her eyes. Xander was so prudish when it came to sex in public places. It had taken her hours to coax him into mounting the vaulting horse. Hours! And she hadn't even got an orgasm out of it. She stomped off to draw a chart showing the store's cash flow profile. At least that would be one satisfying activity undertaken today.

Xander rubbed his shoulder, which he had bumped very hard on the floorboards, and looked across at Buffybot, who, relieved of the fear that he had snapped a femur, had skipped off to test the sharpness of the throwing axes hanging on the wall. She was humming to herself as she drew two of the axes in a complicated figure of eight pattern, at top speed, around her head. Xander winced. After Buffybot's last workout only last week, Willow had been forced to spend half the night reattaching a metal ear. She was not going to be happy if the next job was a whole recapitation.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, Ninja girl. Anya and I …. When you came in …. The game we were playing …."

"You were having sex!" said Buffybot brightly, not missing a beat with her throwing axes.

Xander blushed. "Uh yes, the sex. Um. That is. Please don't tell anyone you found us having sex on the vaulting horse," he said in rush.

"Okay," said Buffybot, agreeably. "I'm already not allowed to tell anyone about Willow and Tara having sex on the …." She stopped, axes quivering in mid air, and looked guilty.

"On the what?" asked Xander, stepping forward unconsciously.

"I'm not allowed to tell you," said Buffybot. She wagged her finger, causing the right hand axe to swish dangerously close to Xander's nose. He stepped back, flinching, and retreated to safety.

"You can tell ol' Xander here," he said, coaxingly, from behind the vaulting horse. "I'm sure Willow and Tara wouldn't mind if you just told me."

Buffybot giggled, and replaced the two axes on the wall. She lifted a larger, heavier axe down, and tested the sharpness of its blade with her thumb. "It's a test, isn't it?" she said brightly. "You want to test me to see if I can keep a secret. Well, I can keep a secret like anything, you betcha." She stepped over the Xander, and patted him on his sore shoulder, drawing a little yelp. "Don't worry, your and Anya's secret is safe with me. And Tara says Willow only wrenched her back a little bit on the sink, so that's good!"

And she set off to collect the camping stove, the frying pan and the backpack, shiny axe swinging from her right hand, leaving Xander blinking behind her.

Willow and Tara were arguing. "I can drive," said Tara firmly. "It only takes 6 hours. Remember Riley said people in Iowa drive further than that to watch school basketball?" She was standing with her hand on the open door of Joyce Summers' Jeep Cherokee, inherited by Buffy, and now de facto by the Scoobies. Nobody had been quite sure that it was okay to use it for the expedition, but it seemed the practical choice. And finally, as the 'can we, can't we, should we, shouldn't we?' conversation had rolled on, Dawn had rolled her eyes, snatched the keys and flung them to Tara. And since she seemed to be the closest thing the jeep had to an owner, Tara had taken them, and loaded up for the trip.

"Well, we're not in Iowa," said Willow. "Thank goodness," she added as an afterthought. "And if you can save 12 hours of driving with a simple bit of trans-dimensional magic, it's crazy not to do it."

Anya leant with her backside against the jeep and gazed at her fingernails. Xander was being annoyingly inattentive, and she was bored to tears by the magic/no magic conversation. The answer was obvious, surely?

"What's the point of being a witch if you don't do spells?" she asked.

"Exactly!" said Willow.

Xander slouched against the jeep beside Anya, his mind wandering, as he tried to figure out exactly how Willow had cricked her back on a sink, and what Tara had been doing at the time. He jumped as Anya elbowed him in the ribs. "Yes, indeedy," he said hurriedly, "whatever Anya said."

"We're driving," said Tara, her tone final. She pulled on a pair of reflective sunglasses, and opened the door of the jeep, suddenly looking rather cool. Buffybot was sitting in the front passenger seat of the jeep, seat belt buckled, vibrating with eagerness to be off. She had her Swiss Army penknife, her camping stove, her frying pan, her sleeping bag, her spare clothes, her binoculars, her compass, her hand axe, her first aid kit, and her waterproof box of matches, all in the backpack she was clasping against her chest. Tara turned and smiled at Willow and Dawn, who were standing on the pavement, arms folded in unconscious echo of one another. "Well, goodby. ..."

She never finished the sentence. The jeep vanished. Along with Tara, Buffybot, Xander and Anya.

Willow and Dawn stood in the road with their mouths open, staring at the empty space in front of them, so recently occupied by a gleaming tonne of metal, and their friends. Where had everyone gone?


	2. Chapter 2

**__**

Chapter 2 - In The Jungle, The Quiet Jungle

Kernel panic! Buffybot came round with a start. She'd been powered down... How had that happened? She ran a quick systems check, deleted the corrupted subroutine, blinked at her gyroscope readings for a second. She was upside down. That couldn't be right. Hmm, perhaps she was in Australia?

She looked around her. She was surrounded by crazed glass and buckled metal, which a moment's reflection identified as the interior of the jeep, somewhat bent out of shape. A crash! Oh no, they'd been in a crash. She sure hoped Tara was all right.

She gripped the seat above her head and performed a complicated somersault, easing herself out of her seatbelt and down on to the upturned roof of the jeep. There was some kind of humming noise going on outside, and it felt very warm. She looked around her, reassured to find that the cab was empty. No unconscious bloodstained Tara to be found. Neatly smashing out the glass in one of the crushed windows, she wriggled out into a muddy rutted track in the middle of a lush tropical forest, dragging her backpack behind her. Ooh! thought Buffybot, looking around appreciatively at the moss strewn trees, and dangling vines. I hope there are monkeys!

But still, for now the monkeys would have to wait; for her first duty was to find Tara. She stopped, and gathered her thoughts, then gave a firm nod. Her course was clear. She pulled her axe out of her backpack, and initiated a full 360 degree scan of the area. When she was 85.77 recurring degrees into the scan, she heard a voice.

"Well this is just typical, isn't it?"

The voice was Anya's, coming from the roadside, though she was not visible to Buffybot's searching eyes. Buffybot took a few steps in that direction, and soon saw her friend - lying upside down in a shallow drainage ditch, cut beside the road. She hurried to help, levering Anya up out of the shallow cut. She didn't seem to be hurt, thank goodness, but she was very muddy, and there was green pond scum in her hair. Buffybot looked at the dripping figure in front of her. She wasn't at all sure Anya's pretty white blouse was ever going to be white again.

"Did you fall in?" she asked, interested.

"Yes, I fell in," yelled Anya, "from the sky! I materialised in mid air - and then thump! I landed in that ditch."

"It's a good thing all that mud broke your fall," said Buffybot, looking on the bright side.

Anya gave her a scathing look and limped into the middle of the road. She stared in silence at the jeep, which lay upside down, the back end mashed nearly flat, looking as though it had been stepped on by a gigantic heavy boot. "Wonderful," she said bitterly, "Well that's just wonderful." She looked about her. "Here we are, lost in a huge tropical forest, maybe not even on earth..."

"It's great, isn't it?" said Buffybot eagerly.

Anya rolled her eyes. "We are probably thousands of miles from anywhere," she said, in tone of a woman speaking to idiot. "Our means of transport is destroyed, all our supplies have been squashed flat, and - I think I've broken a nail," she cried, staring in horror at her right hand.

Buffybot gazed at Anya's nail. It was hard to tell under all the mud, but it did have a bent forward look about it. She clucked her tongue sympathetically. She knew Anya took personal grooming very seriously. "Luckily I have a nail file on my twenty one piece Swiss Army penknife. You can borrow that in a minute, Anya." She patted Anya's shoulder. "But first we need to find the others, and protect them. I still have my axe." She waved it.

"Ah, I think I'm safe. Kind of." This time it was Tara's voice. Buffybot looked around, and focussed quickly on a large tree on the other side of the road. She ran across to the base of the trunk.

"Tara," she shouted happily, "you're up a tree!"

Tara's head poked out from between the close canopy of leaves. She seemed to be rather wet. "I am," she said mildly, "though not by choice. I landed here after falling through mid-air."

"Just what happened to me," cried Anya.

"Except you landed in a muddy ditch," said Buffybot helpfully. "With green scum in it," she added. She looked back up the tree to where Tara was rather shakily attempting to climb down through the branches. "Anya has pond scum in her hair," she called merrily to Tara. "She looks really funny!"

Anya growled, and ran her fingers ineffectually through her bangs, then stared distastefully at her green flecked fingers. "We are marooned in some primitive wilderness," she said, wiping her fingers on her skirt. "There's probably isn't a bathroom for miles. And I'm hungry - I didn't have any breakfast." She scowled. "I was going to stop at the bakery with Xander for Krispy Kremes, once you guys finally got out of our way. In fact I'm _starving._" Her eyes grew wide. "And whatever godawful wholegrain and tofu things Tara brought are all crushed with the jeep!"

Buffybot looked doubtfully at Anya. She seemed to be getting very upset about the food shortage, though the Book of Wilderness Tips was quite specific about the number of days it took to starve to death - and Anya had until Sunday at least. And surely there would be fruit and roots in the forest?" She stood under the tree, ready to break Tara's fall if she slipped. "Are there any monkeys up in the tree?" she asked, hopefully.

Anya stiffened. "Good point," she said. "Tara, if there are any monkeys up there, please wring their necks and bring them down with you. We need supplies."

Buffybot gave a little gasp of shock. Anya couldn't mean to eat _monkeys _could she? That was almost like eating your relatives. And that was bad. After a swift disbelieving glance behind her at the glowering Anya, she turned back to the tree and as her friend descended a little lower, she took hold of Tara's descending foot, then her waist, and helped her to the ground.

Tara gave a little oof! as she landed. "Thanks, Bottie. No monkeys, Anya - except me. And what was that about the jeep?" She followed Anya's dramatically pointing finger and stared at the crushed wreckage. Her hand went to her face. "Oh my, I knew I should never have borrowed it. And so much for me driving it anywhere." She looked at the wreckage a moment more, in a meditative silence, and then at Anya. "A portal, you think?"

"Well obviously it was a portal," said Anya, biting off each word. She walked over to the wreckage and thumped the nearest jeep wheel disparagingly. It fell off the axle with a sad little thunk, hitting her on the knee. "Ow!"

Buffybot giggled as she watched Anya hopping around and cursing. Anya was so funny! But still, a mystery needed solving. She turned to Tara, standing beside her. "What's a portal?"

"It's a kind of energy gate in space and time," said Tara absently, as she walked to the jeep and around to the slightly less flattened driver's door, and peered in, "and someone's used a summoning spell to drag us through one." She paused, "Which was very rude. But also kinda cool." She straightened up and smiled at Buffybot, who beamed back. She was having a really fun birthday so far.

"It's sheer bloody cheek is what it is," growled Anya, rubbing her knee. "And some demon is going to get his arrogant overweening bumpy head ripped off his scaly shoulders when I find him, her or it." She flexed her fingers, and her eyes took on a dangerous glow.

Tara looked musingly at the flattened jeep. "I've never thought I'd actually see a spell like this in action. It's only theoretical magic I read in a textbook." She took on an abstracted look, her head on one side, as she felt out the faint remaining traces of magic in the air. "I think the spell focus was the jeep, and we got sucked through with it."

"The jeep!" cried Anya. "You mean we've been carjacked!?" Her nostrils swelled with fury, and she paced away from them, clenching her fists.

Tara turned to Buffybot. "I see Anya, but where's Xander?" she asked. "He was touching the jeep too, wasn't he? We should all have gotten pulled through by it."

"Ooh!" Buffybot pursed her lips. "He was. We need to hunt for Xander right away." Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and she strode off down the track. What a good thing she had read the section on tracking in her Book of Wilderness Tips!

Before she had got 50 yards, a small dark haired dog rushed out of the forest, and began to gambol about their feet. "It's a puppy!" cried Buffybot, delighted. She loved puppies. The dog looked up at her with meltingly beseeching chocolate brown eyes, set below dark expressive eyebrows. She knew that look. "It's Xander!" cried Buffybot, amazed. "It's Xander and he's a doggie. I never knew he could do that."

Buffybot glowed. She, Anya and Tara, and their faithful Xander-dog, were lost in a mysterious dark forest, stranded maybe thousands of miles from anywhere. She clapped her hands and knelt down to hug Xander-dog. It was just like the pilot episode of some TV series about being lost and stranded. Maybe they'd each be tested in different ways and find out all kinds of interesting things about each other as they worked together to survive and escape ... Ooh! It was just the best birthday treat anyone could have possibly come up with - and it was still only 11am. All sorts of even more exciting things were sure to follow. She gave a happy sigh. She could hardly wait. She got to her feet and looked around eagerly. Where was everyone?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3 - Where Was Everyone?**_

When Tara said that the others in Sunnydale would be worried, she was absolutely right.

After a flabbergasted moment staring at the empty space where the jeep used to be, Willow had raced indoors, and headed straight for the magic books.

Dawn, meanwhile had flipped open her new cell phone, and placed a call to Mr Giles.

"Well, geez," she said petulantly, wandering into the living room where Willow was pulling books off the shelf, glancing at them, and then tossing them on the floor. "Why did he make such a big deal of us all getting these things if he's going to switch his off?" She tossed the phone down on the table and stared at the book pile. "Looking for something?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "No, I just thought I'd while away a little time sorting out Giles' library, while my girlfriend and my best friend get abducted and menaced by some evil demon. Maybe I'll do a little dusting later."

Dawn rolled her eyes in turn. Since she was a teenager she made a much better job of it. "Hey, cut the snark, I'm worried too." Willow didn't reply, too preoccupied with her vandalism of Giles' stacking system.

Dawn stared at Willow's back. She would feel a lot happier if Mr Giles was here to regulate whatever ambitious plan Willow might have for rescuing their fellow Scoobies. Willow was very good at magic, of course. But she was also freaking nuts, in Dawn's opinion. She took a pace or two around the room, gazing at Willow nervously, and then picked up the cell phone again, and pressed redial. She held the phone to her ear, and assumed a terrible English accent, "Now Dawn, please be sure to keep this mobile phone on at all times; it may one day be of vital importance that we are able to contact you, or that you are able to contact us." The phone rang unanswered. "Vital importance, my ass," muttered Dawn, biting anxiously at her fingernails. "Where are you, Giles?"

I am pleased to report that Giles did in fact have his cell phone on, as he had been concerned to impress upon Dawn and the other Scoobies the importance of it. Unfortunately, however, he was not in Sunnydale to hear it ring. Spike and Giles had indeed set off patrolling the previous evening, making their slow and winding way through the many, many cemeteries of Sunnydale in Giles' car. But things had not gone as planned.

_Earlier that morning:_

_Giles and Spike picked their way through the anodyne white markers and brass plaques of the Fairview Garden of Eternal Rest. It was the last cemetery on their rounds, and hardly worthy of their attention, since no vampire of taste would be found attempting to lurk on its open rolling lawns, or flit between its neat white little tablet gravestones. Still, a fledgling vampire could erupt from any grave - even a neat little lawnmowed oblong beside a tarmac path, and so here Giles and Spike roamed in the last hours before daylight. A strained silence stretched between them, that was nonetheless bursting with unspoken words. _

_"Fairview, my arse," said Spike, kicking moodily at the turf. "This place is about as exciting as a car park." After a few more moments of unenthusiastic surveying, he flung himself down on a tombstone and lit a cigarette. "Anyway, you know what your problem is, Watcher?" _

_"Spike!" said Giles warningly. "We have agreed to drop the topic."_

_"I never even mentioned it," said Spike, with a look of wounded virtue. "I was just going to point out to you some of your bigger character flaws. Doing you a favour really."_

_"Oh nonsense," said Giles. "It's quite obvious that you are constitutionally unable to let a subject drop. No matter how tedious it may be to your companion." He sat down on the gravestone opposite Spike and rubbed his aching forehead. As he did so two shadows detached themselves from behind a tasteful weeping willow tree dotted on the hillside above, and drifted in their direction. "It's one of your major character flaws, in fact, since we are descending to the personal. Along with the killing, and torturing and so on."_

_"And your problem," said Spike, "is that you just can't admit that you're wrong. Poor show, Watcher, very poor show." He flicked ash from his cigarette on to the white marble beneath him and looked across at Giles. The second shadow drifted silently behind him._

_"Bobby Charlton did not play for Preston North End before he moved to Manchester United," cried Giles, provoked beyond bearing. "It's nonsense!"_

_"Now who can't let the subject drop?" said Spike, drawing lazily on his cigarette. "And, yes, he did. Man U and Preston North End were his clubs, well known fact."_

_Giles closed his eyes. The first shadow bent over him. "As I have already explained to you," he said, "though I cannot flatter myself that you were actually listening, Bobby Charlton **ended** his career at Preston North End, in a management role, though he turned out for them a few times in 1974 - when you were probably ..." His words ended on a muffled shriek as the shadow took him in its clammy grasp and flowed about him, covering him from head to foot._

_Spike jumped to his feet with an oath, dropping his cigarette, and the second shadow enveloped him from behind. In a moment man and vampire were misty indistinct shapes, blundering about the hillside and cursing in muffled tones. A moment later they vanished utterly. The Fairview Garden of Eternal Rest was silent once more, the only thing out of place a lit cigarette glowing red in the grass. _

"Xander a dog? I really don't think that's very likely, Bottie," said Tara, leaning down to scritch behind the dog's ears, and check him for a collar. She looked into the dog's eyes and blinked. "And yet ..." She looked up, "Anya!" she called, "We've found something that might interest you."

Anya stomped over, still clearly in a rage. The dog ran over to greet her, barking and wagging his tail. She bent down and poked him in the ribs with an exploratory finger. "Not much meat on him, but I suppose we could make a stew," she said, looking the beast over critically.

"Anya!" The Buffybot was shocked. "you can't eat Xander just because he's a puppy." Really, she thought, Anya was terribly _carnivorous _when she was in the wild. Though most demons were carnivorous of course, so it made sense.

Anya looked more closely at the little dog, which whined, and put a paw on her knee, tail thumping furiously. "Xander?" She jumped to her feet, brushing the dog aside. "Is there no end to the indignities being wreaked upon me today? Sucked through a portal by a petty thief, pond scum in my hair, a broken nail and no breakfast. And now. Now, it appears I'm dating a spaniel!"

Buffybot could see that Anya was upset, but she really couldn't let this pass. "I don't think Xander's one special breed of doggie, Anya, so much as lots of kinds - though I'm thinking there's a Cairn terrier involved somewhere, because his eyebrows are all bristly." She leant down and hugged Xander-dog. "Anyway, he's real cute!"

"A mutt," said Anya broodingly. "I might have guessed that if Xander was going to be a dog, he would be a mutt." She stalked away, back towards the car wreck.

"Anya!" cried Xander-dog. "I can talk," he added, in a surprised tone. Tara gave a half embarrassed smile, and a little wave. It was the least she could do.

"What in heck happened?" said Xander-dog, gruffly, tilting his head to look incredulously at his paws, and twisting around to stare at his own tail.

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, delighted to be asked a question. "We've been sucked through a portal into another world. It's very exciting!"

"I meant," said Xander, looking up at her through his very cute bushy eyebrows, "what happened to me?"

"You're a doggie!" said Buffybot.

Xander-dog stared, and then turned his head, distracted by the sight of Anya disappearing around the turn of the path. "Anya!" he cried again, and he took off after her as fast his four little legs could take him.

Buffybot looked at Tara. Her friend seemed worried.

"Are you okay, Tara?" she asked, puzzled. Surely Tara was having fun too?

Tara looked at her, and tried a strained little smile. "I'm okay, Bottie, but I'm worrying about getting us all home. And how to help Xander. And the others will be worried, and they can't cover for all four of us too long. We need to get to them, but the only way I can think of doing it is to find whoever pulled us here - and ask him/her/it nicely to open the portal again and reverse poor Xander's dogginess spell. And it doesn't seem real likely they're going to just apologise for putting us to the inconvenience and click their fingers, whoever they are."

Buffybot nodded solemnly, disappointed though she was. Tara was right of course, however much fun she was having here. And of course her batteries would need recharging eventually, though they ran much longer now she had those two extra battery packs in her bottom.

Tara was pacing around, rather agitated. "It's a good thing that Mr Giles and Willow are back in Sunnydale trying to work out how to get us home, and Spike is there to do the patrolling. Anything might happen there without them."

Buffybot looked up at the trees around her, wondering what the quickest way out might be. Her eye was caught by a gleam. "Ooh! Look!" Buffybot pointed up the tree. She clambered into the lower branches, and took hold of something shiny, then clambered down to offer it to Tara, beaming proudly. "I found your sunglasses," she said, holding them out. "My eyesight is super keen."

"And they're only _slightly_ broken," said Tara, holding up the glasses, which drooped on one side like a bird with a broken wing. She put them on anyway. "Right," she said firmly, "let's explore."


	4. Chapter 4

**__**

Chapter 4 - What On Earth Could This Mean?

Buffybot jogged through the jungle, slashing merrily at the leaves in her path with her trusty axe. She had made a full survey of the immediate area, taking her compass and her binoculars, and her axe of course. The track they had landed upon ran on outside her survey area in both directions, with no indication of where it went or where it came from. Off the track the forest quickly became immensely dense, and shadowed by the canopy above. She had cut her way through the undergrowth, and found many unfamiliar plants that might or might not be poisonous, and some fallen wood that was unfortunately rather wet, plus many hundreds of thousands of ants, beetles, spiders and worms - and three very cute little frogs living in pools at the bottom of big palm leaves. And then, unexpectedly, she had stumbled onto the banks of a huge roiling brown river. It was a good thing she had tuned up her gyroscopes the week before, thought Buffybot complacently, because, with no warning of the river's presence, she'd nearly fallen in - and no one had taught her to swim yet. As it was, she'd caught hold of a lliana dangling beside her, and dragged herself back upright on to the bank. Just like Tarzan, she thought, excited, or Jane at least. Just for a moment she yearned for a leather bikini and tree house to call her own.

But maybe being a brave explorer was even better. After all, discovering things was super fun, and the whole survey had been ever so interesting and educational. It could only have been improved if some evil demons had shown up for her to chase and dismember with her shiny axe. She wondered briefly if Anya would eat them if that happened? It might keep the monkeys safe anyway.

She made her way back into the clearing. Tara stood with her back against a tree, twirling the sunglasses in her hand, and staring at the flattened jeep. Buffybot joined her, and waited politely to make her report to the Expedition Leader. (Establishing a clear chain of command.) But Tara was looking abstracted, and after a few seconds had passed she couldn't resist the urge to interrupt. "What are you thinking about, Tara?" she asked, hoping it was either surveying, woodcraft, or entomology - or ideally all three.

Tara sighed. "Just more of the same." She turned, "Hey, Bottie. Find anything good?"

"Yes!" said Buffybot. She puffed out her chest proudly. "I found 26 different species of beetle inside a 100 yard radius on my survey! I've never been to a tropical forest before - and it's great."

Tara scratched her sweaty scalp and examined the insect bites on her arm. The humidity in the forest was extreme, and the temperature was rising as the morning wore on. Xander-dog was lying panting in the shade of a tree, while Anya sat fanning herself with a leaf frond, her back firmly turned to him. "It's certainly an experience," she said mildly. "So tell me what else you found."

Buffybot gazed around her, wondering what else she could do to help. The afternoon was growing hotter, and the humans in her party were showing signs of distress. She'd built them a really great lean-to shelter to shade them from the sun, and then she'd gathered water collected in the hollows of trees, and in leaves, and had dug up various interesting roots. Her friends had drunk the water, and sat under the lean-to, though they hadn't seemed very interested in the roots for some reason - but they still didn't seem very happy. Tara was nearby, scrying for any signs of intelligent life nearby in a bowl of water Buffybot had cleverly crafted out a huge flower bud. Anya was sitting whittling a stick into a throwing spear, a grim expression on her face - apparently planning some terrible mayhem. And Xander ....

The Buffybot came and sat down next to Xander-dog, and ruffled his ears. "I'm sorry Anya's mad at you," she said.

Xander-dog sighed, and stretched out on his stomach, kicking his back legs behind him.

Buffybot giggled. "You look real cute when you do that."

Xander-dog looked up at her through his eyebrows. "I was lying on my side earlier," he said gloomily, "but some evil mosquito thing came along and bit me on my stomach. They keep trying to get in my ears as well. It's not easy being a dog." His head drooped, and he rested his muzzle on the ground between his paws.

"Poor Xander," said Buffybot. "I've got some After Bite to rub on your tummy if you like. And I'm sure Tara will manage to work out how to turn you back into a man - somehow. She's real smart."

"She says it's too dangerous for her to try without knowing what spell made me like this in the first place," said Xander-dog. He snapped idly at a passing butterfly, which jinked away with insulting ease. He sighed, a deep whuffling sigh, and twitched his eyebrows.

"It must be ever so exciting being a dog, though," said Buffybot encouragingly. She could tell that Xander-dog was falling a prey to despair. Her book of Wilderness Tips had warned her that Keeping Up Morale was a common problem on expeditions in the wilderness. What Xander needed was to try and see the upside of things. "I wish I could be turned into a dog," she said, "I'd go around smelling everything, and chasing sticks, and getting people to stroke my ears. And I'd bark a lot. It would be great!"

"You're enjoying all this, aren't you?" said Xander-dog. He pointed in a circle with his muzzle to indicate the clearing, the lean-to, the crushed jeep, and the encroaching jungle all around them.

"Ooh, I _am_," said Buffybot, nodding her head vigorously. "We're marooned in a rainforest, which is ever so interesting. I'm really hoping there are monkeys. But not where Anya can see them," she added, "because she wants to eat them."

"She wanted to make me into a stew," said Xander-dog. "That doesn't bode well for our future relationship does it?" And he looked up at her with big brown eyes, looking utterly piteous. "Mrrrf!" he sighed softly. And it was a very sad mrrrf indeed.

Buffybot put a sympathetic hand on his furry back, and stroked him. Xander-dog flattened his spine under her hand. "Ergh," he said, "that feels amazing. No wonder man's best friend decided to cosy up to us."

There was a peaceful moment as Buffybot ran her fingersup and down Xander-dog's spine. Then Buffybot looked at Xander-dog and Xander-dog looked at Buffybot. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Yes!" Buffybot got to her feet, excited. She swished her axe in in a big arc, making Xander-dog flinch, and duck to floor level. "Tara, Anya!" she cried. "Something's coming. Something very big."


	5. Chapter 5

**__**

Chapter 5 - Something Very Big

They could all hear it now. A low thunderous sound, shaking the ground, and vibrating in their ears. The leaves of the trees around them began to move, making a sinister rustling sound that grew and billowed around them.

"Is it an earthquake?" asked Tara doubtfully.

"No, Tara!" said Buffybot, her ears quivering eagerly. "It's a creature, a big one, and it's moving towards us. Isn't it great?"

"It's coming straight here!" cried Xander-dog, pressing himself against Anya's calf, his tail between his legs.

"Good!" cried Anya. And she turned and ran towards the sound, her spear in her hand, trailed reluctantly by Xander-dog, and stopping only when she reached the edge of the clearing. "Tara - you blow it up, Xander - you bite it - and I'll stab it to death."

"Ooh!" Buffybot ran up to stand beside Anya on the path, her eyes alight. "Can I hit it with my axe?" she asked hopefully.

Anya spared her a glance. "Just don't get in the way of my spear arm."

"Guys," began Tara, coming panting up beside them, "let's not jump to conclusions." She darted a nervous glance up the track. The earth beneath their feet began to make a booming sound, like a drum being hit with a huge hammer. "Maybe it's friendly," said Tara weakly. "Um, we should try talking to it before we do anything else." She straightened her blouse, and ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. There was a pause, as they all listened to the noise getting louder.

"Are you guys all nuts?" barked the Xander-dog. "Whatever in hell it is, it's enormous! Mayor-sized! Run, run for your miserable lives!" And he turned tail and dove into the undergrowth.

Anya and Tara looked at each other. The noise was getting awfully loud, and the pounding showed no sign of slowing down. At that moment the trees furthest along their line of sight cracked with a horrible sound like a thousand pistol shots and toppled sideways. A figure appeared on the newly created horizon, and began pounding towards them, spraying broken trees on either side, like a boat ploughing through choppy seas. The noise was incredible.

Buffybot stared. It couldn't be, could it? It was! The creature walked on two legs, its short arms ending in three-fingered hands with foot long sharp claws. The rest of its massive body balanced on a huge tail, which was swinging as it walked, sweeping full grown trees with it. Its scaly head was huge, twice as big as the Buffybot herself, and full of foot long serrated teeth, which were bared. It peered shortsightedly up the path with one small reddish eye, its head tilted towards them.

"Ooh!" cried Buffybot, thrilled beyond belief. "It's a dinosaur! A really, really big one." She rifled mentally through her uploaded Encyclopedia. "It's a Giganotosaurus!" she cried, enraptured. She glanced sideways at Tara, sure her friend would be as thrilled as she. But Tara was not there. Buffybot looked to her other side. Anya wasn't there either. Strange.

Tara's voice came suddenly inside her ear, several times louder than normal. Buffybot jumped, and then relaxed. Tara was projecting her voice into the cell phone Buffybot kept conveniently installed in her head. Golly, that had given her a fright, she thought indulgently.

"Run, Bottie!" screamed Tara, "It isn't going to stop for you. And you're on the path."

Buffybot's mouth made a little 'oh', as she gazed at the rapidly approaching monster, and then she switched on her sprint function and charged into the undergrowth, ripping her own little path in unconscious imitation of the oncoming Giganotosaurus. As she ran, the trees behind her toppled, one falling to her left, then another to her right, and finally, the canopy of an adolescent jungle tree landed squarely on top of her and she disappeared into a mass of branches, llianas, soaking wet moss, giant leaves, and a rain of very pissed off little treefrogs.

..............

Buffybot blinked. She was lying on her back in a tiny space. It was dark, and very wet, and something heavy was resting on her chest. She switched on her night vision and tucked in her chin to try and peer down the length of her torso. A tiny tree frog, perched on her nose, stared back at her from jewel-like red eyes. _Agalychnis callidryas_ she noted absently. It was very pretty, but unfortunately it was also blocking her view. And even more unfortunately she couldn't lift a hand to gently prise it off, or move her head to dislodge it. She tried wriggling her nose. The tree frog hung on grimly. She tried sneezing. The tree frog only blinked. Finally, she started a chorus of 'Cream' by Prince, reproducing the falsetto perfectly. The frog was gone in a blink. Awwww, thought Buffybot, I hope I didn't hurt his little froggie ears.

"Bottie?"

It was Tara! Speaking through her cell phone again. But how was she to answer? She sang another verse of 'Cream', even louder.

"It sounds as if she's injured! Terribly injured!" It was Xander-dog's voice, faint and far off (and a bit throatier than usual) but still perfectly recognisable.

"Don't worry, Bottie," said Tara's voice inside her head again. "We'll dig you out, somehow." And the sound of dragging, and cursing, and the cracking of small branches began above her.

Buffybot looked around her, trying to work out how to help. Her night vision showed the ghostly outlines of branches and leaves, packed tightly all around her little refuge - and two flashes of reflected light. Buffybot stared. Saw two big brown eyes set in a mask of white, peeping in through the branches at her.

"It's a monkey!" she cried, delighted. The face disappeared, and Buffybot was instantly sorry that she'd shouted. But still - a monkey! She hugged herself. This was easily the best part of her birthday so far!

And it hadn't gone away far. A moment later, she caught a glimpse of movement again, and a thin, hairy and incredibly long hand appeared, followed by a thin, hairy, and incredibly long arm, that hinged at the elbow like a bizarre inverted crane, as the hand felt its way forward, over her face, tapped her on the nose.

"Hi!" said Buffybot.

The hand stilled, and then turned palm upwards, one long finger curling into an unmistakeable beckoning sign. The digit beckoned once, twice, and then pointed at a particular spot in the low ceiling of plant matter above her. Buffybot started wriggling mightily to throw off the heavy branch that lay across her chest. The hand hurriedly withdrew, and she thought she heard an angry chattering noise.

"Sorry!" she called. "I'll be more careful." And she commenced to wriggle more slowly, never taking her eye from the spot the monkey had indicated.

After a few minutes struggle - and the inspired decision to burrow down rather than up, Buffybot slid free of the pinioning branch across her chest and clambered towards the spot the monkey had shown her. She pressed her hands, and then her head against the green surface, and sank upward into a morass of hanging moss, leaves, and small twigs. She commenced to wriggle through a shifting sea of greenery, on and up via the path of least resistance, until finally, her head burst through the smothering plant material into the outside air. She pulled her body through the gap, and then paused for a moment to pick pieces of pulped leaves, and other assorted muck, from her hair and clothes. It was always important to present the best appearance one could, after all.

Standing up, she surveyed the ravaged forest around her. Trees lay every which where, splintered and broken. Moss swayed in the breeze in raw open spaces where previously there had only been unbroken forest, and below her.... far below at ground level she spied her friends, all staring into the tangled mass of vegetation before them.

"Whoo hoo, guys!" she cried lustily, waving with all her might. "I'm up here! I'm fine - and I met a monkey!" She scrambled hurriedly down the huge outer slope of the fallen canopy to the ground.

Reaching the ground, Buffybot stopped and looked at her friends, who had come to meet her. Tara was sweaty, and panting, and scratched. Anya also looke dheated ,and she had rubbed some kind of plant goo on her cheeks and forehead Xander-dog's fur had been rucked in twenty directions, and it was full of burrs and twigs. Everyone was covered in tree sap and rainwater. Buffybot's eye moved to the generous pile of torn branches and tree trunks flung behind them. She felt a funny flip flopping sensation in her chest. They'd all been digging! Trying to save her! Aww, she loved her friends.

"Thank you for saving me!" she cried, and flung herself on to Tara's bosom. Tara smiled, and patted her back. "You seem to have saved yourself, Bottie."

"Oh, a monkey showed me the way out," said Buffybot. "Oh gosh, I forgot to say thank you. How rude." She looked all around for the white faced monkey to thank it for its help. But of the monkey there was no sign. Anya was here though.

"And thank _you_ for helping to saving me, Anya!" Buffybot said, hugging Anya tightly.

Anya rolled her eyes, and peeled Buffybot's hands off her waist. "It was sheer self interest on my part," she said. "You're a tin can with a funny wig on to me." Buffybot laughed, and punched Anya's shoulder affectionately. Anya was so droll!

Leaving Anya cursing under her breath and rubbing her shoulder, Buffybot turned to Xander-dog and squooshed him in a big hug. "And you're my big brave little doggie dog!" she said, planting a big kiss between his eyes. Xander-dog squirmed, even while his tail wagged.

"And now," said Buffybot, her eyes alight with enthusiasm, "let's chase the dinosaur!"


	6. Chapter 6

**__**

Chapter 6 - Let's Chase The Dinosaur!

There was a long pause.

"Uh, why?" asked Xander-dog.

"To find the evil demon sorcerer of course," said Buffybot. "Then Tara can make him undo your doggy spell, and send us back through the portal."

"And _then _we can kill him," said Anya. "Horribly."

"Hmm," said Tara. "I see what you're getting at, Bottie."

"What?" said Xander-dog. "I don't. And I may not be the brightest puppy in the litter, but I don't think I'm missing anything here. Summoning spell, check; humiliate Xander spell, check; Scoobies stomped by dinosaur, check. Connection with chasing terrifying enormous, probably man-eating, and dog-eating beast, no check. Or am I just being dumb? It's happened before."

Tara bent down and scratched Xander-dog's neck. "You're not being dumb at all," she said soothingly. "It's just that the dinosaur doesn't belong here, any more than we do. This isn't a Jurassic forest. The plants are modern, and there are monkeys." She looked across at Buffybot, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Cute monkeys," she said, "with really long arms and little white faces."

Tara nodded. "The dinosaur probably got summoned from elsewhere and elsewhen, just like us." She looked around at the shattered forest, "Someone's causing a lot of mischief here."

"And they need to be taught a lesson," said Anya, feeling the end of her spear lovingly, "I vote for evisceration."

"So Buffybot is thinking that following the dinosaur might bring us to whoever summoned it," said Tara. Buffybot nodded eagerly again. Tara was so smart!

"And it might," continued Tara, "but it would be very difficult to do." She gestured, and they all looked at the wreckage left behind by the giganotosaurus. Tree trunks, and branches, and the leaved crowns of a hundred trees lay at crazy angles all around them, obscuring the track, and stretching off as far as the eye could see.

"I could do it!" said Buffybot brightly. "I'm very strong."

Tara smiled. "I bet you could, Bottie." She drew a deep breath, "But fortunately I've managed to get a good result with a spell."

"Well, hallelujah," muttered Anya. "Little Miss Goodbody finally remembered that she's a Creature of Power."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Dawn stood with arms folded, watching as Willow made a little cut in her own finger, and squeezed a drop of blood into the tiny crucible in front of her, in which lay several long golden hairs, and various smelly leaves, simmering beneath a very non magical bunsen burner.

Willow's shoulders hunched. "If you don't stop asking dumb questions I'm going to add a few drops of your blood in here ... ooh!" She brightened. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. Virgin's blood has a lot of potential power because of its purity." She looked over at Dawn, who had grimaced at the word 'virgin' and then again at 'purity'. "That's ritual purity by the way, not any reflection on your character. Luckily." She turned and stepped towards Dawn, knife in hand.

Dawn blushed. Did Willow have to get so personal? Grownups talking about stuff like that was so gross. And what was the 'character' crack about? Was that the shoplifting thing again? She looked up. Willow had moved toward her, looking purposeful. "Hey!" she said, backing off. "I'm not giving you my blood, no way."

"Not even to save Tara? And Xander? And Anya? And Buffybot?" Willow had sidled closer with each question. Dawn backpedalled frantically until her back was against the wall. Where the _hell _were Giles and Spike when she needed them?

"It's a people seeking spell," said Tara, "It should find any people within a hundred mile radius." Anya, Xander-dog and Buffybot bunched together, watching her with interest. She held the two ends of the cleft stick rather sheepishly between the finger and thumb of each hand, and swung slowly around in an arc. The pointing end of the stick quivered, seeming to taste the air. Then it sat up straight in Tara's hands, dragged sharply to the right and took a great leap out of her grasp, to land quivering at Anya's feet.

"Ow!" said Tara, rubbing her fingertips.

"Oh great," said Anya sarcastically. "It's found us. How useful."

"Actually," said Tara, walking forward and picking up the stick. "I specifically excluded us all from the spell, so that wouldn't happen." She walked around the Scoobies and held the stick out again, facing the forest. It began to vibrate violently in her hands. She walked towards the undergrowth.

"Hmm, said Tara, "apparently there are people in that tr .." The stick leapt out of her hands and hurtled against the nearest tree trunk with a clatter. There was a sudden eruption of angry screaming and whistling, and white faced simians erupted in all directions from the tree, swinging from every branch; shaking leaves, and flying through the air every which way, screeching as they went.

"Ooh!" cried Buffybot. "Monkeys, lots of monkeys!"

"Catch them!" cried Anya.

"Woof! Woof!" cried Xander-dog, his tail thrashing from side to side.

And Anya and Xander-dog disappeared into the forest after the fleeing troupe, racing at full tilt.

Tara pressed her hand to her heart. "That was a bit of a surprise," she said weakly. "I didn't think the spell would apply to monkeys." She heaved a sigh. "I've obviously still got a lot to learn."

Buffybot was hopping and down, desperate to join the chase. Suppose Anya speared a monkey? Or Xander-dog bit one? They were both naturally inclined to chase and kill things after all. But clearly Tara, although Leader of the Expedition, needed some Support and Affirmation from her loyal lieutenant.

"I think you know ever so much, Tara - and you have an attractive curvy figure, too. And nice earrings."

Tara laughed, then looked into the green darkness of the forest. The sound of an excited ex-demon and her equally excited dog thrashing through the undergrowth was still clearly audible, and from time to time came a blood curdling yodel, or an shrill yelp. "We ought to go after them, I suppose."

"Yes!" agreed Buffybot, delighted at the success of her pep talk. "Let's run really fast!"

Tara closed her eyes for a minute. Ajapa yoga was very nourishing for both mind and body, but it didn't really prepare you for running through jungles - especially jungles thrown into ruin by the passage of a giant dinosaur. Still, she could at least try. She broke into an awkward run, picked up speed across the clearing, ran into the chaotically tangled mass of branches, vines and moss on the ruined forest floor - and promptly tripped over a fallen llianna, and cannoned into a giant leaved palm.

"Oof!" Tara sat up, her head spinning. Her lip was sore. She touched her fingers to her mouth, and looked at the smear of blood.

Buffybot jogged back from her position 50 yards ahead.

"Ooh!" she said. "You fell over and cut your lip!"

Tara bit back a hasty reply. Stating the obvious was not a crime, after all, she reminded herself. Just very annoying. "Perhaps I'll just try another spell." She looked across at Buffybot, who was shifting anxiously from foot to foot. "There's no way either Anya or Xander is going to catch a monkey," she said kindly. "Did you see the speed those hairy little guys were going through the trees on those long arms of theirs? They'd have outrun Tarzan." She took Buffybot's hand and pulled herself shakily to her feet. "Anyhow, I've got a good idea."

Buffybot glowed. Whatever Tara's idea was, it was bound to mean even more fun!


	7. Chapter 7

**__**

Chapter 7 - Even More Fun

"Where the hell did they go?" cried Anya, stamping the jungle floor, staring vainly into the canopy around her. "We nearly had them this time."

Xander-dog ran around in circles, his nose in the air, ears flapping. "They're still here, somewhere," he cried, "I can smell them!"

They had been on the run for some hours, following their prey deeper and deeper into the forest; losing sight of them for long periods - and then catching a glimpse of a white masked face here, or the whiff of a passing simian there, and setting off on their mad chase again.

Twilight had fallen as they ran, and now night time proper was beginning to settle upon the forest. They had come to a sort of clearing, where the canopy thinned sufficiently to allow some moonlight to penetrate. Moonbeams filtered down to them through small gaps in the canopy above, casting little silver spotlights on the forest floor, so that it looked like some fanciful stage setting for _A Midsummer Night's Dream. _But both Anya and Xander-dog were oblivious to the view. They wanted blood. Monkey blood. Xander-dog raised his nose to the faint breeze, and gave a puzzled whiffle. He smelled .... people! And not just any people, it was...

"Hi guys," said Tara, stepping out from behind a large tree, and into a shaft of moonlight. A little nimbus of light settled around her blonde hair.

"Hi!" cried Buffybot, stepping out behind her. "We've been here _ages_!" She bounced happily on her toes. Tara had said Anya and Xander would come here - and they had! It was like magic. In fact it probably _was_ magic, come to think of it.

"I got you guys a drink of water," she continued, "because I bet all that chasing has made you thirsty." She stepped up to Anya and held out a beaker, cunningly fashioned from a stalk of bamboo, and with a big 'A' carved into it, then bent down and placed a large palm leaf neatly woven into a bowl in front of Xander-dog.

"We are not thirsty," said Anya, ignoring the loud lapping sounds coming from Xander-dog, who had his head in his new waterbowl, "we are too busy hunting the monkeys. And we damn nearly had them as well!" She stared into the canopy, frustrated.

"They're really great!" said Buffybot enthusiastically. "Much cleverer than our monkeys. They have really cool tree houses. And when they eat bananas they stick beetles in them for extra roughage, which is very sensible."

Tara closed her eyes briefly, remembering the hospitable banana she'd been handed earlier.

"Yes, their cuisine is very healthy, and... interesting," she said faintly. She turned away from the clearing and peered into the gloom. "Won't you come out and talk to us again? I'm sure Anya and Xander-dog would like to meet you."

There was a faint hissing sound, as though a lot of people were whispering under their breaths, all at once.

"Won't you come out?" said Tara again, "We won't hurt you."

"_She_ would." A simian head appeared from the canopy, dangling upside down, and an uncannily long stick-like finger extended from the fringe of the forest to point at Anya.

Buffybot turned to look in the direction of the pointing finger.

Anya had dropped the bamboo mug that Buffybot had crafted with such care, and was swinging her tall spear in her hand. Her midriff was exposed below her torn and ragged shirt, and a sweaty headband held back her mud and pond-scum stiffened hair, exposing the dried blue streaks of indigo pulp on her cheeks and forehead. Her chest rose and fell from the exertions of the chase, and her breath came loudly through her nostrils. Her eyes weren't actually glowing red, but she gave the impression that they might at any time. In short, she looked like some terrifying ancient warrior, daubed in war paint and ready for the kill.

Buffybot gave a little 'ooh!' under her breath. She bet the little people hiding in the trees were scared all right!

"The tree dwellers are very timid; only their great curiosity at your arrival led them to show themselves to you at all." The voice came from across the clearing, ringing loud and clear into the darkness.

Buffybot swung round again. Ooh! Somebody had very, very quiet feet. Even her super keen ears hadn't heard a single rustle.

Standing in the middle of the clearing was a Sorcerer. Buffybot could tell he was a Sorcerer, because he had a wand in his hand, with starlight trickling from the end. Apart from the wand, he was a thing of darkness and shadow. The little silver spotlights picked about his feet, but none fell directly upon him. He was tall, clad in robes of deepest purple and his head was swaddled in a heavy dark burnoose that shadowed his face. Within the shadow there was the suggestion of a hawkish nose, and a square chin, and - Buffybot oohed again - his eyes really _did_ glow red. She wriggled happily. This was turning into the perfect birthday party. Games, adventures, a banana-themed picnic, and now a magician!

"Ummm, hello sir," said Tara shyly. "I'm very glad you found us." She stepped forward, holding out an uncertain hand. Anya thrust her aside impatiently, and levelled her spear at the new arrival. "And just who are you? Ali Baba?

The Sorcerer bowed. "Greetings, Ancient One," he intoned. "I fear I do not know this Ali Baba of whom you speak. My name is El Bombero. I am delighted to welcome you and your servants - and your little dog - to my forest."

Anya stiffened, her knuckles whitening on her spear. "Who are you calling ancient?"she hissed. "I'm barely a thousand years old, if that."

The Sorcerer stood very still for a moment. "My pardon," he said courteously. "You are a youthful demon indeed. And a most beauteous one."

Xander-dog set up a low rumbling in his throat. If this guy got fresh with his girlfriend, he had every intention of biting him in the leg - Sorcerer or not.

But Anya was too angry to be impressed by mere suavity. "Some criminally stupid thief," she said, between clenched teeth, "sucked our jeep - and us - through a portal that was too small for it. The careless asshole. You wouldn't know who that was, by any chance, would you?" She stepped forward, spear quivering ominously.

"Oh dear,"said their host. "I do hope you weren't inconvenienced at all." He looked about the clearing, and frowned. "Has anyone offered our guests tea?" He gazed reprovingly into the forest. There was an outbreak of whispering again, and then a sharper argument started in the third tree from the left, with whistles, hooting and angry branch shaking. A moment later a white faced simian appeared, kettle in hand, and bounded to the forest floor, where it made a wide circle around Anya and Xander-dog, and set off into the trees at the other side of the clearing. "Tea _and _biscuits," said the Sorcerer, still staring.

There was a long, reluctant silence, followed by more whispering, and then finally another white-face appeared, its long fingers wrapped almost twice around a bright red packet of McVities digestive biscuits.

"Ooh!" cried Buffybot. "Digestives! Giles likes those. And Spike. And lots of other English people, Giles says." She looked at the Sorcerer. "Are _you_ English?"

The Sorcerer's teeth flashed as he grinned. "No, but I know some English people. In fact ...."

"Inconvenienced?"shouted Anya suddenly. Everyone turned, startled. "I've been dragged through a portal into another world! I find that extremely inconvenient. Especially since I hadn't had my breakfast."

"The jeep was crushed," said Tara, "and we were only borrowing it. It's terribly embarrassing."

Anya was still fulminating over 'inconvenienced'. "I also landed in a muddy ditch - and I broke a nail!"she said angrily. She brandished her spear. "And someone is going to pay. We intend terrible to wreak terrible vengeance."

"Erm," said Tara, squirming uncomfortably.

"Well, that is of course your right," said the Sorcerer. "But I assure you madam, I am not the guilty party, In fact ....

"And what about me?" cried Xander-dog, "I've been turned into a dog!"

"Yes, indeed." The Sorcerer bowed. "Now that _was_ me, and I'm modestly pleased with the result. It was rather clever, really." A faint smile was visible in the shadows beneath his turban.

The monkey with the kettle bounded back into view, followed by a companion carrying a load of sticks. "Ah splendid, splendid" said the Sorcerer, clicking his fingers to conjure up five campstools and a neat little fireplace. His hairy assistants carefully put the sticks in place, and hung the kettle over the fire, then stepped back expectantly. The Sorcerer lit the fire with a casual flick of his wand. He gazed approvingly at the flames licking around the base of the kettle, and opened a pouch at his belt to take out some tea bags. "I do hope you'll join me?"

"Clever!" cried Xander-dog, whuffling in agitation. "I'm a dog! And I don't think it's funny." He sat and scratched his belly vigorously with his back foot. "And now I think I've got fleas." His ears drooped.

The monkey who had brought the kettle turned her head at Xander dog's words, and ran across the clearing. She took a handful of dog fur in her long, long fingers, and raked through it. "Aargh!" cried Xander-dog. "It's pulling my hair!"

The monkey pounced, with a pleased "Aha!" and held up a huge flea, wriggling helplessly between her thumb and finger nail, to show to her admiring relatives. Then she ate it.

"Ooh!" There was a mass intake of breath from the monkey tree, and then a stream of white faced simians bounced out of the branches and ran over to Xander-dog. In a moment he was almost buried under a seething mass of monkeys.

The Sorcerer chuckled. "Those giant fleas are a great delicacy of theirs." He turned to Tara and Anya and the Buffybot. "But personally I prefer a nice sweet biscuit." He picked up the packet, which had been dropped in the scrum for Xander-dog's fleas, and held it out.

Buffybot took a biscuit absently and raised it to her mouth, fascinated by the monkey scrum that flowed around Xander-dog. She wished she had fleas! Perhaps she could get some? She flicked through her mental encyclopaedia, looking for information on flea habitats. Hmm, fields of grass and carpets in warm rooms were in short supply in a jungle. But still, if Xander-dog could find them, so could she. She gave a firm nod, and swallowed the last of her biscuit, and then stared guiltily at her empty hand. Oh dear! She'd eaten food again. Willow got very cross when she had to scrub out Buffybot's insides, and there was already a banana studded with beetles in there. She reminded herself firmly not to drink any tea.

"Now," said the Sorcerer, sitting on a campstool, and resting his wand casually against his thigh, "as I was telling you, I did not summon you into this world. In fact, it was ...."

"Giles!" cried Buffybot, jumping to her feet and running across the clearing, beaming. "Hi! How did you find us?"


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8 - How Did You Find Us?**_

"Ah," said Giles, "Er, it's rather a long story."

"Good!" cried Buffybot, beaming at him. She loved long stories!

Anya stepped forward. "Right, well, before we begin, let's put a stop to_ this_." She plunged a hand into the monkey scrum, hauling out Xander-dog by the scruff of his neck, and tumbling monkeys in all directions.

She tucked Xander-dog under her arm and glared at the miscreants. "Xander is _my _dog. Not some walking flea factory. Find your own fleas!" She patted Xander-dog absently, and he licked her hand. She smiled at him, then turned back to her white-faced audience. "And if I find any of you have harmed so much as a hair on poor Xander's head, I will string you up by your ridiculously long, hairy opposable thumbs - or better yet, by your ridiculously long, hairy opposable toes."

Several monkeys, who had tufts of Xander-fur stuck to their long fingers, quickly put their hands behind their backs, and assumed innocent expressions.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves," said Anya virtuously, "victimising a poor dumb beast like that."

"I am not dumb," said Xander-dog indignantly, wriggling under Anya's arm.

"Xander's right, Anya," said Buffybot seriously. "Xander isn't dumb, at all. He talks really well!"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Have it your own way," she said, dumping Xander-dog unceremoniously on the ground. She turned to where El Bombero was handing Giles and Tara a cup of tea, and ushering them each to a campstool. "Now, Giles. Who brought us here? What is your plan for wreaking terrible vengeance on them? And how are you going to get us home?"

Giles took a sip of tea. "I'm afraid things are a bit more complicated than you realise," he began.

"No, they aren't." Everyone turned in the direction of the new voice. It was Spike! He swaggered across the clearing and draped himself across the last free campstool. "Old Ripper called you all here, but he made a bit of hash of it, seems like. The only complicated bit is him tying himself in knots trying to avoid admitting it."

Giles jumped to his feet, spilling his tea, and pointed angrily at Spike. "_You_ interrupted the Summoning!" he shouted. "You, you stupid, ignorant, loutish half-baked excuse for demon spawn." He shuddered, then sat down abruptly, and drew off his glasses, which were now covered in brown splashes.

Buffybot stared at Giles in amazement. It was very unlike him to shout. And point. But perhaps the jungle conditions were getting to him? She mentally reviewed the passages on morale in her book of 'Wilderness Tips'. Giles was showing some classic symptoms of stress, she noted. He was unkempt, and sweat stained, and his hand shook with an almost invisible tremor as he raised his glasses and commenced to polish them free of tea.

"I apologise for raising my voice," said Giles in a choked voice, not looking at anyone. "But I have been severely tried."

"Sticks and stones, Rupert." Spike grinned, and leaned back on his stool. "Now, if you'd just followed my advice from the start, none of this would have happened." He accepted a cup of tea and three digestives from the Sorcerer, and settled back, making an expansive gesture. "'So we need to Summon an SUV, says I? Righto, let's nick one. I fancy one of those big shiny BMW X5s. We can Summon one from the BMW showroom in LA.' 'Oh, we can't do that,' says he. 'That would be Wrong. Let's borrow the Jeep that's been sitting in Buffy's garage not doing anyone any good,' says he. 'No one's touched that in months,' says he. 'We can borrow that, no trouble,' says he. 'Well, if you insist on being a boring old fart,' says I, 'let's get on with it and pinch the Jeep.' So we rope in the Sorcerer here, and put together the Summons.... "

"And then you made that ridiculous remark about Jackie Milburn playing for Sunderland, and distracted me at a crucial moment," said Giles, burying his head in his hands. Spike smirked.

"Which meant," continued El Bombero smoothly, "that Rupert did not immediately notice your presences and terminate the Summons. However, luckily I was able to take measures to avoid the tragedy that was imminent, and all ended well." He smiled again.

"And I'm very grateful," said Giles, biting the words out between his teeth.

"Why did you need an SUV, Giles?" asked Buffybot eagerly, cutting to the heart of the matter. Everyone ignored her.

"Oh dear!" said Tara. "So you summoned the Jeep, just when we'd decided to use it for our trip." She looked at her hands. "I knew I should never have agreed to borrow the thing."

"Especially since it was Dawn who said you should," added Xander-dog, nodding.

"YOU dragged us through that portal, and stole that jeep!" shouted Anya, rising to her feet and pacing about the clearing. "You, Giles! And to think you gave me a hard time for selling a dried coconut to that woman, and telling her it was a shrunken head fetish." Her eyes narrowed. "And, speaking of selling things; if you're here in this forest, who is minding the store?!"

"Never mind the store," cried Tara. Anya bridled, offended. "Who is fighting the vampires? Poor darling Willow can't do it alone."

"Course she can," said Spike, cramming his third biscuit into his mouth. "I mean, she'll probably just incinerate the whole town centre and leave a gaping hole in the earth. But she'll kill any pesky vamps in the process, no trouble. And the little Bit can stand well behind her."

Tara cast him an exasperated look. Spike was not taking matters seriously, in her view. And he'd upset poor Giles. Well, messing up a Summons and nearly killing them all had probably upset Giles too, but Spike wasn't helping.

"So," Spike tilted back on his campstool on to two legs, and stretched his legs. "Where's the jeep then? Let's get this show on the road!"

There was a silence.

"The jeep's squished, Spike," said Buffybot. She made a demonstrative squishing gesture with her hands. "It got squished going through the little portal." Spike swung his stool back onto four legs, his jaw dropping.

El Bombero nodded. "Yes, I compressed the vehicle to allow the passage of these charming people through the void."

"And turned me into a dog, for some reason," said Xander-dog, scowling through his whiskers. He was holding a grudge about that.

Tara had been frowning. "Oh!" she said. "I think I figured out why you did that. Yes, it _was_ clever."

"Matter conservation," said Giles gloomily, nodding. "A dog's smaller than a man."

The Sorcerer turned his gaze on Xander-dog. "I apologise for the discomfort, oh noble traveller. But without my mutating you to a smaller form, you would not have fit through the portal."

"And being furry is much better than being a squished bloody pulp and smeared across the universe from here to infinity," said Tara, patting Xander-dog gently, and looking across at the Sorceror. He bowed to her and flashed white teeth in a smile.

"A bit better, at least," added Anya, curling her lip.

"Never mind Porky the Dog Boy!" yelled Spike, leaping to his feet. "Do you mean to say we still don't have a bloody car, after we went through all that eight hour ritual crap to get one? Well, that's just great, that is."

Giles looked across at him. "If you could have resisted the urge to drop in that remark about Jackie Milburn at the crucial moment," he said pointedly, "I could have noticed our friends' presence in time, and transferred the Summons to another vehicle. But then you have a history with cars, don't you? No means of transport is safe in your hands." He rose wearily from his seat. "I suppose we should go and see what's left at least," he said unenthusiastically. "Perhaps Spike can bend it back into shape with his bare hands - he must have had practice with that De Soto of his." He turned to Tara, "And I'll explain what's going on along the way."

"What's going on?" Dawn was standing in the living room of Revello Drive, inside a chalked pentacle, which had been drawn rather messily on the carpet, and marked at each point with candles, set on saucers. She leant over one of three crucibles, that sat on the living room table, bubbling, hissing, and occasionally spitting foul globs of material on to the varnished table top. She gazed doubtfully into its depths, and fingered the bandage on her elbow. She wasn't at all sure she was happy watching her own blood boiling in a little dish, especially when it was mixed with black and sticky things she couldn't even pronounce. Also, the whole thing smelt disconcertingly like pot roast cooking.

Willow kept reading from the heavy Latin book that lay open beside her. "I think I've got the incantations right this time," she said, finally slamming the book shut. She rubbed her temple, smudging chalk across her sweating forehead. "And I'm opening a portal, same as whoever snatched Tara and Xander did, here." She pointed to the first crucible in the row. "I'm also using a seeking spell, to get it to open in the same place that Tara went, here." She pointed to the second crucible. "And I'm sacrificing the blood of a virgin to the Demon Acathla, to ask him to grant us safe passage through the void between worlds, here." She pointed to the crucible with Dawn's blood in it.

"It all seems kinda complicated," said Dawn, gazing at the three bubbling crucibles, and the haphazard pile of opened spell books scattered around them inside the pentacle.

"Well of course it's complicated," snapped Willow. "If it was easy, everyone would do it." She picked up a large tome again, and began to re-read chapter six, breathing heavily through her nose.

"Only in some parallel world where everyone was a spell-obsessed nut job, with control issues," muttered Dawn to herself. She looked at the crucibles again. She might not be as smart as Willow, but didn't take a genius to see that this wasn't going to end well.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9 - This Wasn't Going To End Well**_

Buffybot put down her load, and gazed around her with great interest. She had jogged back into the forest with the crowd to guide Giles and Spike to the squashed jeep, and had listened eagerly to Giles' explanation of what they were all doing in the jungle. The Sorcerer had gone to school with Giles! And Giles had done him a favour, and then the Sorcerer had done Giles a favour, and then he'd sent a couple of water wraiths to summon Giles (and Spike) to this world and asked for _another_ favour. And Giles had said 'yes', and so they needed an SUV, and they'd done the Summons.... golly, it was very complicated. But it was a Good Cause, of course. Giles wouldn't do it otherwise.

Anyway, they'd reached the road, wading through all the devastation wreaked by the giganotosaurus. And Giles and Spike had stared at the car, then they'd started swearing in British, and stamping about and waving their arms. So all in all, when Tara had asked her to try and gather some things for supper, she'd been happy to go. She'd collected an armful of bananas on her way back to the forest clearing where they had met El Bombero. She had also amassed a pile of the best kind of beetles, and she was wondering if these, or the local giant earthworms or the even more giant centipedes would satisfy Anya's carnivorous side.

While the human party had been gone, the monkeys had helped themselves to a brew from the communal teapot. They were sitting quietly in the clearing, sipping tea and dunking beetles in their mugs. Buffybot looked at the beetle collection in her hand, collected in a palm leaf. The monkeys were likely to appreciate them more than Anya. She approached the group, and opened the leaf, revealing a huge swirling mass of jewel-like beetles, and laid it on the ground. There was a brief surprised silence, and then a general noisy scrum as all the monkeys at once laid claim to her gift. Tea mugs and beetle shells went flying as the scramble became a scuffle, and eventually a melee.

"Children, children!" The Sorcerer spoke reprovingly. "There is no need to pull your neighbour's hair, or black your neighbour's eye every time food appears." A few monkeys at the edges of the scrum paused briefly to flash him a look from beneath their white eyebrows, and then dove back into the food fight, tails swishing.

The Sorcerer sighed, and came to stand next to Buffybot. He smiled at her, and she zinged a smile back. Any friend of Mr Giles was a friend of hers!

"The forest folk appeared about six months ago, complete with a large banyan tree." He sat down on a campstool at looked at the little throng. "At first I just assumed their arrival was an accident. There are little slips between worlds happening all the time. Anyway, they settled in very nicely, and they've built some splendid tree houses. And I gave them the ability to speak, to make some company for me - not that they use it much."

Buffybot looked at the moving maul of bodies, tails and hands. She counted silently. Twenty eight. It wasn't a massive number of monkeys, really. Though quite a lot for one banyan tree. The beetles seemed to be gone now, and the dust was settling. But she hadn't offered her host anything, not even one beetle! She quickly picked out a banana from her haul and held it out to the Sorcerer.

El Bombero shook his head at the fruit, and instead took a cigar from his pouch and lit it. "But the slips just got more and more frequent." He sighed, and puffed a perfect smoke ring. "Last week we had a rain of fish on Monday, a new mountain appeared on Tuesday, a coral reef splashed in on Wednesday, and then that accursed dinosaur appeared on Thursday. Something probably showed up on Friday as well, but we were too busy trying to escape the dinosaur to find out."

"So you called Giles to help you!" said Buffybot, enthused. "That was a very good idea. Giles is super smart."

"Well," El Bombero quirked a brow. "After a fashion. I sent my water wraiths to kidnap him, and his vampire servant Spike - and I've promised to send him back, if and when he rids me of this problem." He turned to Buffybot and gave a wide smile. "I prefer to be in a position of strength when I deal with The Ripper."

Buffybot's mouth made a big 'O' with outrage. El Bombero wasn't a nice man, at all. He was a kidnapper. And a blackmailer! She drew away from him, shocked. And to think she'd just offered him one of her bananas!

Anya and Xander set off into the forest, planning to hunt some 'proper supper'. Giles, Tara and Spike stood looking after them for a moment, then turned aside, and set off again on the slow difficult trek back through the jungle to the clearing.

"That Sorcerer bloke's soft in the head, said Spike disapprovingly. "Smashing up the jeep to save that moth-eaten mutt, and Sheena, Queen of the Jungle there." He made a disparaging gesture at Xander-dog and Anya, who were moving rapidly ahead of them. "We said we really, really needed the jeep - and what does he do?"

"He puts me in his debt, probably into the next life and beyond," said Giles bitterly. He watched Xander and Anya disappear into the twisted mass of branches and hanging moss ahead of them. "I only hope they don't meet the wild pigs," he said, staring after their receding backs. He turned to Tara, "If you run after them waving a stick and yelling, 'Hello, here's breakfast, and a bit fresher than I'm used to these days!' they are rather inclined to turn round on a pinhead and charge straight at you, tusks lowered - aren't they Spike?" A brief flicker of annoyance crossed Spike's face.

"Anyway," Giles shrugged, and ran a weary hand across his sweating scalp, "I'm sure they'll be fine, and Xander can always sniff his way back to the clearing if they get lost. Let's get back to base and see if there's any tea on the go."

Dawn stared at the crucible. It was bubbling crazily, and rocking on its base. It was going to spill over any minute.

Willow threw out her arm in a dramatic gesture. A huge swirling black void materialised in the air in front of them, and freezing air streamed through it, with a great roar, and struck them both in the face. Dawn's eyes snapped shut reflexively, and then abruptly opened again when her brain registered what a bad idea that was. The void seemed to be closing upon her, and she back pedalled frantically. She could vaguely hear Willow chanting, the Latin words flowing into each other as she gabbled as fast as she could, trying to hold back the oncoming darkness. Dawn stumbled further backwards, overturning the crucible, caught her cool stiletto heeled sandals in the pile of mystical tomes that lay scattered on the floor, and fell heavily, landing ass first on the carpet, just outside the pentacle.

Oh Boy, now she knew that was bad. Willow and Tara were always going on about that. Whatever, you do, don't break the wards! Well, she'd broken the wards all right. She got shakily to her feet, and rubbed the back of her jeans. And she had a chalk smear on her butt to prove it.

The roaring had stopped. She blinked, and looked at the empty chalk outline, now surrounding nothing more than an untidy pile of books and a glass coffee table covered with a mess of tumbled crucibles and other paraphernalia, and a creepy puddle of unwholesome-looking goop. The swirling hole was gone.

And so was Willow.

Buffybot leapt to her feet with a glad cry of welcome. It was her friends!

El Bombero had continued to sit and smoke his cigar beside her, quite unembarrassed by the revelation of his perfidy, and apparently not even noticing the frigid silence she had imposed on their conversation. And frigid silence was hard! She really, really wanted to ask him more about the monkeys, and the mountain and the coral reef, and the giganotosaurus. But Buffybots did not make small talk with evil villains, and that was that.

Now though, he had gone off, followed by an excited troupe of monkeys, to check his scrying bowl for more unexpected arrivals, and Buffybot was sitting alone with her bananas. As her friends crossed the clearing, she ran forward and wrapped Giles in a strong hug, full of compassion. Giles winced. "Um, I'm glad to see you again too," he said, patting Buffybot awkwardly on the back.

"Giles!" cried Buffybot. "Mr El Bombero Told Me All!" She released him, and took an agitated turn around the forest floor. Giles felt his sore ribs, trying to work out if she'd actually cracked anything.

"Um. About?"

Buffybot threw out her arms dramatically. "About how he kidnapped you - and now he won't let you home 'til you stop mountains and reefs hitting things, and get rid of his giganotosarus for him! He's so mean!"

"Ah. Ah." Giles stopped feeling his ribs for a moment. "Yes, I can see how things might appear that way, put so baldly. And that Arturo might well appear .... er mean. Though there is some history to all this ..."

"Giles used to be a bad boy," said Spike, raising a scarred eyebrow. "Hard though it is to imagine. Probably started with flouting the local littering law, then moved on to stealing bubble gum in his local corner shop, and finally ended up summoning trans-dimensional soul-eating demons. It's a sad and all too common tale."

Giles gave him an annoyed look. "Be that as it may," he said stiffly, "I have owed Arturo favours in the past, and earned some favours from him in return. So if I'd managed to track down the source of these temporal shifts, and suggested a way to end them, Spike and I could have gone home - or even better I could have gone home and sent Spike somewhere else entirely - and I'd have had a useful favour from a powerful world-hopping sorcerer in the bank. As it is, he saved all your lives, which as I was saying earlier means I will probably still owe him favours into the next life."

"Is there a formula?" asked Tara, interested. She reached in her pocket for her little notebook, and then remembered it was in her knapsack, crushed in the back of the jeep. Together with just about everyting else useful.

"Well, it's all rather interesting and complex," began Giles, brightening a little now the conversation had turned to matters academic. "And, of course, there are a great many important magical precedents and traditions, which need to be taken into account before you start. For example ..."

"One life equals one favour, said Spike laconically. He sank down on to a campstool, and counted off on his fingers. "So one wishy-washy witch, one Boudicanya; and one smelly mutt boy equals three favours."

"And one sweet and shiny metal girl," added Tara, smiling a little sadly at Buffybot. "Four favours. Oh dear, Giles."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10 - Oh Dear, Giles**_

Four favours! Buffybot gazed at Giles, who had his head in his hands. Poor Giles! He was going to have to do four difficult and amazing things to repay El Bombero for saving their four lives. But wait! Surely that wasn't quite true. Surely any of them could repay the favours? One for all and all for one! That could be their motto, like the Mouseketeers on tv. She quivered with eagerness to get hold of Tara and Anya and Xander and explain her plan to them all.

"Well, if we can cure the temporal slips that will be one favour back," said Giles. He had raised his face from his hands but he was still looking harried.

"Would getting rid of the dinosaur be another one?" Tara frowned. "Though I admit I can't quite think of a humane way to deal with it at the moment."

"Bugger humane ways!" Spike rolled his eyes. "It's a monster, red in tooth and claw. It sinks its teeth into the kind of soft touchy feely dinosaurs that eat flowers, and disembowels 'em alive." He reached into his pocket, dug out his cigarettes and lighter, and lit a cigarette. "Anyway, I reckon we can blow it to kingdom come with a deftly placed charge of dynamite. Just need another portal spell to get some."

"If it doesn't trample us all to death first," said Giles gloomily. "It rampaged through the area on Friday, destroyed nearly all the treehouses and squashed a monkey. And the longer it goes without finding a square meal, the more destructive it's going to get."

Buffybot gasped. That poor little monkey! Squashed by a rampaging giganotosaurus. She squared her shoulders. Whether it counted as a favour to El Bombero or not they were going to have to send the dinosaur packing.

Tara was frowning. "I don't think we should just be casually killing ancient life forms," she objected. "Suppose it's from an endangered species?"

"It's every other species that's endangered when it's about, Tara love," Spike drew on his cigarette. "Us included. Let's blow it up and be done with it."

Giles raised his eyes to the heavens. "We are not going to blow up the dinosaur with dynamite."

"Good!" said Tara.

"Why not?" asked Spike, frowning.

"Because plastic explosives are much more practical." Giles headed towards the kettle, leaving Buffybot gasping behind him. She stared at him as he poured hot water into the teapot, terribly worried. The stress was getting to him, she could see it. She made a mental note to herself to work on building his morale just as soon as she possibly could, as well as repaying the favours.

……….

Dawn stared at the empty room. This was bad, very bad. Very, very, very bad. She stepped gingerly back over the now broken chalk line and made a few rather half-hearted attempts to clear up the broken crucibles, and prevent gloop from running off the table and on to the living room carpet.

She took her cell phone out of the pocket of her fashionably tight jeans, and dialled Giles again. The phone rang ten times, and clicked over to Giles' voicemail message. She listened to his recorded voice, tapping her fingers against her thigh nervously. Where the hell was he? And Spike? They should have been home hours ago. Had they been sucked through a portal like everyone else? Or just eaten by demons somewhere on a hill in Sunnydale? Either way, it was hard to see what else could happen to make things worse.

A blast of cold air hit her on the back of the neck, and she jumped a foot. What a dumb thing to think, Dawn, she told herself. Things can always be worse. She turned, trembling. The portal had popped open again. It was currently about the size and appearance of a swirly bucket of black ink, but as she watched it doubled, trebled, quadrupled in size, to become a huge roaring maw. A shadowy figure materialised in its depths, and Dawn swallowed. It didn't look like Willow, somehow.

She turned tail and ran. The living room door slammed shut in front of her and she turned, panting. Out of the portal stepped a huge scaly demon, horns gleaming and muscles bulging. He moved stiffly forward step by step, as Dawn desperately rattled the doorknob. He came to the scuffed chalk line, gazed down at it and raised a contemptuous eyebrow, then stepped neatly over the markings and out in to the living room, shedding rock dust with every step.

"Now, who has summoned me to this misbegotten planet for a second time?" roared the demon Acathla.

………….

Hoots and whistles blew up all around them, causing Giles to spill some tea. He gave a sharp exclamation of annoyance, then turned to see El Bombero crossing the clearing at a swift jog, monkeys bounding all around him.

"There's been another temporal slip, Rupert," gasped El Bombero, "Not as bad as some of the others, but still serious. A witch this time. Pale, skinny redhead, a bit geeky looking. Wearing what looks like a skinned ostrich. I've no idea what world she can be from."

Giles took a gulp of scalding tea, and spat it out convulsively, much to the amusement of the monkeys.

"Willow!" cried Tara, jumping to her feet. "It's Willow! And that's her fake feather boa - she's very fond of it."

El Bombero patted the choking Giles on the back. "Ah," he said, "so she's from California, I might have guessed. Are you all right, old fellow?" he asked, bending over Giles solicitously.

Tara grasped his arm. "Where is she?" she cried.

El Bombero shrugged, "Hard to say exactly, but she's upriver. Maybe 50 miles or so."

"Still hasn't really got the hang of those tracking spells, has she?" said Spike, yawning.

Buffybot patted Tara's arm and frowned at Spike. Poor Willow had got the right planet, and the right continent after all - and she bet that was hard to do. Meanwhile though, "Can you teleport Willow here?" she asked El Bombero eagerly.

El Bombero smiled down at her. "Yes indeed, little metal girl." He looked at the assembled throng of sweaty and dishevelled Scoobies. "Would you like me to do that?"

"Ye...." started Buffybot.

"NO!!" shouted everyone else at once.

Buffybot gasped. El Bombero had been trying to trick her! To get another favour in the bag. She gazed at the Sorcerer through narrowed Buffybot eyes. Really, sometimes you just couldn't trust people!

El Bombero frowned. "Very well," he said stiffly. "Then no doubt you will work out a way to recover your friend by yourselves. Once you've worked out exactly where she is located, that is." He looked at Giles pointedly, "and when you've worked out how to solve my various little difficulties, no doubt you'll let me know. If any of you ever wish to leave here, that is." And he stalked away, back held very straight.

Giles wiped his brow. "Well done, everyone. The last thing we need is to owe Arturo anything more."

"You've got to admire his tactics," said Spike, looking at the retreating Sorcerer. "Of course, in my wicked days, I'd have just strung him up and flashed a fang 'til he did the job - that's old school negotiating, that is. But I can't do stuff like that now I'm a good boy."

"Why not?" said Tara, scowling at the Sorcerer.

"Arturo has a very effective repelling spell." Giles sighed, and took a more cautious sip of his tea.

"I've noticed," said Tara. "He's repelling me more by the minute." Buffybot giggled and Giles gave them both a reproving look.

"So even if it were ethical for Spike to, er, 'string him up and flash a fang' all that would be likely to result is that Spike would get some very nasty third degree burns. Which would be amusing, but not helpful."

Tara began to pace around the forest floor. "And while you and he are playing around with this stupid favour game, poor dear Willow is all alone in the jungle. Anything could happen to her!"

"I keep pointing out," said Spike impatiently, "that our red-headed gal pal is a lot more dangerous to other peop..."

He was interrupted by a sharp cry of anguish from Giles. "What's biting the book man?" he asked peevishly.

Giles was clutching at his hair, glasses askew. "Do you realise?" he cried, "What this means?" He walked around in an agitated circle, "It means that as of this moment _Dawn _is the only thing standing between Sunnydale and evil."

There was a long and terrible silence, as faces paled and limbs trembled.

"Well, we'd better hurry up and find a way to get home then, before she manages to open the hellmouth by tripping over a pentacle somewhere, and bursting a pimple," The voice had come from behind them. They all turned.

Anya stood before them, glowing with a faint sheen of perspiration. Her nose shone a burnished red, while the mud and indigo had melted and run together on the rest of her face, creating a strange ghostly purplish mask. Her clothes were tattered, and her feet were bare. Her spear, now tipped with red, rested on one shoulder, while a small wild boar was draped across the other.

By her feet crouched Xander-dog, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth and lips pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth, and bright pink gums. His eyes shone with a feral gleam, and there was blood on his paws.

"Finally!" cried Spike, leaping to his feet. "Someone's brought home the bacon!"


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11 - Bringing Home the Bacon**_

The remains of the wild boar rested on a spit, set over a fire that had now burned down to a few glowing coals. Exhausted Scoobies lay every which where, greasy hands clasped over their bulging stomachs. Even Spike, who had drained the boar's corpse of blood before the cooking had started, and hadn't held off on the pork chops later either, was lying at rest, belt buckle undone.

Buffybot sat in the branch of a palm tree, twenty or so feet above them, keeping watch. Her night vision revealed a plethora of small shy creaturesof the night milling around below, attracted by the smell of meat cooking, but not quite daring to enter the clearing. She could also see the gleam of moneky eyes from the forest canopy, and their shadowed hairy outlines among the branches. She had a feeling the monkeys would be trying roast pork before too long. If they liked it, Buffybot suspected the wild boar in this area were going to be getting a nasty surprise very soon. She mentally flicked through her database of recipes for any dish that incorporated both pork and bananas, but it seemed to be a surprisingly rare combination.

Buffybot was too excited to sleep. Tomorrow Anya was leading an expedition into the forest to find Willow. Tara was coming along of course, and Xander - and Buffybot as well! Anya had told her to cut down a tree and make a log canoe for them all, and while the pig roast had been in progress, Buffybot had gone down to the river with her trusty axe, mentally flicked through the pages of her Wilderness Guide until she found 'canoes', and set to with a will. And although she said it herself, it was a beautiful thing that she had made. She couldn't wait until everyone tried it.

Meanwhile, Mr Giles was going to gather all the items for the Summoning ritual again, and when they got back with Willow they were going to try for not only another jeep, but also some plastic explosives. So everyone was going to be hard at work. Except Spike. Spike said he was going to have a sleep in El Bombero's hammock and keep out of the sun. Buffybot sighed, poor Spike. She knew he must be itching to help, but if he burst into flames he would just be a burden to them all.

She settled back against the tree trunk and waited for the dawn.

Dawn closed her eyes and screamed shrilly.

"Aargh!" cried Acathla. "Don't DO that! I have very sensitive ears, you know." And he clamped his hands over his ears, which were certainly big enough to be sensitive.

Dawn's snapped off the scream in mid-whistle. It seemed the earth hadn't been pulled into a hell dimension after all, which she had certainly been expecting. Though Acathla was breathing, or seemed to be. He took a step forward, claws outstretched. Ah! - he was probably going to rip her limb from limb and torture her before he sucked the earth into hell! She opened her mouth to scream again.

"Enough." Acathla made a gesture, and Dawn's mouth closed by itself. She tried to scream nonetheless, but all it did was make her eyes bulge and her ears pop.

Acathla thumped across the living room floor, heavy as an elephant. Floorboards creaked and little rock fragments tinkled to the floor. Acathla's two inch long claws touched Dawn's throat, and then drifted to her chin, which he tilted upwards. He stared into her eyes accusingly.

"You will explain," said Acathla severely, "without the high pitched keening noise you are so fond of, just what an interdimensional Key is doing prancing around in a lower form." His chest swelled and he threw his head back, and shouted, "and Summoning Me From My Rest!"

Several bits of plaster fell from the ceiling, and crashed to the carpet around them. Dawn rolled her eyes, as much as she could with her head tilted back forty five degrees. This guy was such a drama queen.

Hooray! They were off again. Buffybot paddled happily along, powering the canoe with swift sure strokes.

"Look out!"

The canoe ploughed into the riverbank, with a juddering impact, and Tara, who had been the one to shout, fell from her place in the prow, into the river.

Buffybot looked on, concerned. People did seem to be falling in an awful lot! She was pretty sure that wasn't meant to happen.

Anya leant over and hauled Tara back into the canoe, setting it rocking violently. Xander-dog cowered in the bottom. He'd set off standing on the very tip of the boat, barking merrily as they'd pushed out from the shore. The first ducking had inevitably been his, and there'd been several more since.

Anya sent Buffybot a murderous glance. "If Buffybot'd had even the slightest grasp of how to make a _stable,_ _steerable_ log canoe we wouldn't having this trouble."

Tara wrung out the tail of her shirt. "To be fair," she said, "I'm not sure you can make a log canoe either stable or steerable. It's just a log after all. With a proper boat you have a keel to make it stable, and a rudder to make it steerable. Or something. I'm not really up on boats."

Buffybot sat upright, excited. She bet she could make a canoe with a keel, and a rudder and a pointy end, and a square end, just like a proper boat. Just let her at it!

"I think," continued Tara, taking off her shoes, and pouring the water in them over the side. "if the two people paddling can just remember to paddle at the same time, and at the same speed, and with the same amount of force..."

Buffybot wriggled guiltily.

" ...then we should be able to go along quite easily."

"That's what you said last time," snapped Anya. "But Popeye over there," she pointed at Buffybot, "Apparently wasn't listening. She's already cracked one paddle, and the way she's going, the others will be matchwood soon."

Buffybot blushed. She was trying to paddle with the same force as the others - but it was so much fun! Swoop and pull, swoop and pull, water flashing like liquid light from the paddle edge, boat rushing through the water with a roar .... she just couldn't help getting carried away after a few strokes and putting her back into it.

She looked across at Tara, who had given up trying to wring water out of her clothes, and had taken her 'find Willow' spell ball out of her pocket, and was examining it closely to ensure that it had taken no harm from yet another ducking. Poor Tara, wet again! Paddle more carefully, Buffybot, she told herself firmly, and don't look at the pretty swirly patterns the paddle makes. Look at the boring old river bank instead.

Crunch! There was sickening sound of wood breaking. Anya screamed a blood curdling scream, and began to beat at something with her paddle. The water roiled, and the canoe rocked madly. Xander-dog yelped, and ran down the boat towards Buffybot.

"It's a crocodile!" he yelled. "We're being attacked by a huge crocodile!"

Buffybot leapt up, and immediately tripped headlong, fortunately still inside the boat. She scrambled to her feet, kicking Xander-dog in the ribs as she did so.

"Ow!" cried Xander-dog.

"Sorry!" cried Buffybot, hurrying to the front of the canoe. There _was_ a crocodile! It was huge, and it had lovely patterns on its head and back, and it was coming back for another attempt on the canoe!

"Take that!" cried Anya, striking the back of the crocodile with her sheared off paddle. It reared, pulling its shoulders out of the water and snapped its jaws an inch from her left shoulder, then fell back, rocking the canoe violently on its way down. Anya growled with rage. "Give me my spear!" she yelled at Xander-dog, "I'll show the scaly bastard who's boss!"

"Desisto!" cried Tara, and she threw a crackling fireball at the crocodile's head. It struck the crocodile just above the eye, just as its jaws opened again, and exploded in a cloud of pink powder. Buffybot jumped forward to thrust her paddle into its open mouth. The crocodile closed its jaws on the paddle with a mighty snap, crunched it in to kindling, drew itself up for a final assault on the boat - and then sneezed, violently, showering the boat and all its inhabitants with splinters, pink powder, and crocodile phlegm. Then it roared, and fell back into the water, turned tail and swam off, tail thrashing and head low in water, sneezing pink powder occasionally as it went.

"Well," said Tara shakily, "that seemed to work. Eventually."

Everyone sat back down in the canoe, shuddering as they realised just how incredibly lucky they were that it hadn't upset again.

"Do you realise," said Xander-dog, finally, "that I fell into this river four times this morning. That's four times I could have been snapped in two by that monster or its buddies!" He shuddered.

"And do you realise," said Anya, "that we are now drifting down this river, towards who knows what, with no paddles and therefore no way to steer, and a hundred yards of crocodile infested water on either side of us if we decide to abandon ship?"

There was another long silence, then Xander-dog brightened. "Hey! I've got a great idea. Our plucky little Buffybot here can just swim ahead with the tow rope between her teeth and drag us along! Even if a crocodile does bite her, it'll only break a tooth."

Buffybot blushed. "I'm awfully sorry, Xander," she said uncomfortably, "but you see - I can't swim. Tara's going to teach me, but we haven't had a chance yet."

The log canoe swept on, carried on the swift brown water, swiftly downstream.

Anya gazed over the side at the murky water, and at the banks rushing by on either side. "Well," she said, "what do we do now?"


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12 - What Do We Do Now?**_

The river rushed onwards, the current dragging their canoe this way and that as the water swirled and turned.

Buffybot looked at her companions, concerned. Xander-dog was crouched down in the bottom of the boat, his ears clamped around his head, and his tail firmly between his legs. Tara was leaning forward in her seat, looking rather green, while Anya seethed in the middle seat, obviously yearning for a chance to hit something with her spear. It didn't look good.

"Ow!" said Tara suddenly. They all looked at her, and she blushed, then delved into her breast pocket and drew out the Willow seeking spell. "Ow!" she said again, and dropped it on the floor of the boat, blowing on her fingers. "Willow's here!" she cried. "Somewhere."

They stared about them, at the yards of boiling brown water, and the distant smudges of greenery on each bank, rushing past on each side.

"We're going to get carried past her!" cried Tara, distressed.

"No you're not!" cried a loud and confident voice from the far bank. Buffybot focussed in rapidly. It was Willow! And there was a nimbus of magic building up around her head, glowing even from this distance. Tara leant forward on her seat, and began to recite a spell. Buffybot blinked. A faint shimmer in the air between the boat and the shore started to resolve itself into a glowing line which thickened and twisted to become a rope, of a rather elegant lavender shade. Tara grabbed it, and wrapped it around her hand and wrist. The rope tautened, and the canoe began to veer, very slightly, towards the tiny figure on the shore. Ooh! Buffybot scrambled up from her seat, and grabbed Tara around the waist, gripping the canoe with her other hand, just as the rope snapped to its full tautness, and Tara was jerked violently forward by the impact of the river, straining to drag them forward against its restraint.

"Everyone hang on to Tara!" Buffybot cried, and after a long difficult moment with Xander-dog clinging to Tara's pant leg, and Anya holding her in a death grip under one armpit, Buffybot was able to release her own grip on Tara's waist and grab for the rope instead. The force was tremendous - but she was the Bot was to manage it! The canoe began to turn in earnest, cutting a deep furrow in the water, and dragging heavily across the current towards the shore. She hung on grimly, as the river tried to rip her in two, and slowly but surely the canoe forged across the current, shipping water heavily as it did so, and towards the shore.

Finally, the canoe came to rest against the bank, and Buffybot sprang out to drag it several feet up into the clinging grey mud, where it wedged with a wet squelch. The lavender rope untangled into wisps of smoke and drifted away on the breeze.

"Wow!" cried Buffybot, springing up on to the riverbank. "That was really, really, exciting!" She beamed. "Hi, Willow!"

"Hi, Bottie." Willow smiled, and then looked past her, concerned, at the other inhabitants of the canoe. "Tara, honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Tara stood up shakily, wobbled out of the boat, and sat down heavily on the muddy shore. Willow ran forward, and knelt down beside her, brushing her wet hair back from her forehead and kissing her thoroughly. Then she helped Tara to her feet, and further up the bank to dry land. They settled there with their heads together, murmuring explanations and endearments in turn. Buffybot looked on with approval. Willow and Tara were so cute!

"And I'm fine too, thank you for asking." Anya had stepped out of the canoe with Xander-dog under her arm, and she dragged her way up through the tangled tree roots, to the dry ground. She put Xander-dog down, and he immediately shook himself, from head to foot, scattering drops of river water and crocodile spit in every direction.

"Eew!"

It was Willow. Everyone else was too tired and filthy already to care about another wetting. She looked down at the flecks of foam and wood splinters scattered all over her skirt.

"When did Anya get a puppy? And did she have to get a drooly one?"

"It's Xander," said Buffybot, thrilled to have another chance to explain. "and he's covered in crocodile drool, not puppy drool. It was a really big crocodile, but we dealt with it, you bet!"

Willow blinked, and looked doubtfully at Xander-dog, who was now sniffing at the base of the nearest tree, and absently cocking his leg. "I have a campfire," she said after a moment, "and some coffee boiling." She hugged Tara. "Let's all go have a drink, and you can tell me all about it."

Dawn and Acathla were sitting at the breakfast bar in the Summers kitchen, drinking hot cocoa.

The first chair had given like matchwood under Acathla's enormous weight, pitching him backwards to the floor. Dawn hadn't laughed. She was very pleased about that. Especially when she saw the dent in the floor made by Acathla's backside. He had pulled himself back to his feet, grumbling about shoddy standards of construction, and the disgraceful shortage of decent thrones nowadays, and perched himself on the granite slab work surface instead - which had creaked, but held firm.

Years of conditioning from her mom had then prompted her to offer him a drink, though she could have kicked herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. Suppose he asked for the blood of sacrificial virgins? Or nectar brewed from the stings of a million exotic bees? But she'd struck lucky. Apparently he'd spent his time among the Aztecs before getting petrified, and had developed a taste for cocoa (as well as bloody sacrifices) while he was there. And her mom had insisted on having proper cocoa powder in the house, instead of a hot chocolate instant mix, so everything was cool. She took a sip of her own cocoa, trying not to wince at the bitter taste. Only wimps and degenerates put milk and sugar in it, apparently - Inter-dimensional Keys should have more pride.

She shot a glance at her guest, as he drained his second pint mug. He didn't seem so bad, contrary to reputation. Bossing her about of course, but every adult in the world was determined to do that, and she had her own ways to deal with it. She wondered if she should offer him one of Giles' precious stock of chocolate digestives before the social part of his visit was over and they got down to business.

But no, apparently two pints of cocoa was enough social observance in Acathla's book. He put down his mug, placed his huge hands on his utterly enormous thighs and leaned forward.

"So," he said, his voice thunderous in the small room, "tell me about your plans for an Apocalypse, oh Key."

"Well, your Sorcerer's right about the temporal slips," said Willow, offering around the coffee. "I've only been here eight hours, but they're happening all the time. In fact, I think my spell brought me to just here because there's a natural weak spot, caused by all the mojo. Someone's made a real mess of the space-time fabric - it's as full of holes as my shawl." She pointed illustratively to the rather droopy piece of crochet work she was wearing under her feather boa.

Anya banged her spear impatiently. "So can you tell _who_ is making this mess, or not? Because if you can, it's simple. We just track them down, cut their head off, and tie their body to a tree with their own intestines. The slips stop, and we all go home in a stolen BMW. Job done."

"Why do we tie the body to a tree?" said Buffybot, confused. "If it's dead it can't run away."

Anya sighed. "To make a point, Little Miss Tick Tock, obviously."

"Well, unfortunately" said Willow, "finding out who's doing it is the difficult bit..." She leant forward and began to explain, her hands shaping spells and rituals in the air, as she talked.

Buffybot, sitting on the edge of the discussion, was knitting her brow, confused. How could you make a point out of a headless body? Surely it would be all blunt and slithery? As she cogitated, her eye was caught by a pair of purple long johns, seemingly designed for a giant, which were suspended like a sort of canopy from a nearby tree. She cast a glance at the passionate technical discussions going on between Willow, Tara and Anya, and then wandered over for a closer look, followed by the Xander-dog.

They stood side by side, gazing in wonder at the curious pile of objects gathered under the shade of the long johns. Some were recognisable, if oddly designed. Fabrics, odd sticks of furniture, lumps of brick, something like a 'no parking' sign written in hieroglyphics, and what looked like a broken cuckoo clock, with a little dragon in it instead of a cuckoo. There was even a plastic bone, and Xander-dog leaned forward to give it a exploratory squeeze in his jaws, just to see if it squeaked. It hissed instead, like an angry hive of bees, and he dropped it hurriedly.

The function of some of the other objects in the pile were impossible to guess. Shiny plastic squares, jumbles of electronics, bizarre foam extrusions, and strangely shaped bits of what might or might not have been plastic, lay scattered all around them. Buffybot picked each thing up and stared at it, fascinated. Artifacts from other worlds. How exciting was that!

Willow leaned over her shoulder, and sniffed. "I found all this garbage just by wandering around here for an hour or two. All the live stuff has already scattered, of course."

"Yes!" cried Buffybot, "like the dinosaur, and the monkeys - and the crocodile, I think." She turned to face Willow, excited. "Did Tara tell you about the monkeys, Willow? They have cute little white masks on their faces, and long, long fingers. And they can talk! They're really cool."

Willow patted her shoulder. "They sound really interesting, Bottie. It'll be great meeting them."

Tara came up beside Willow, and slipped an arm round her waist. She stared down at Xander-dog, who had decided the safest thing to do with the hissing bone was to bury it. He was busy excavating a hole, head down, and front paws busy, tail thrashing. "Willow," she said, biting her lip, "we really need to see about turning Xander back into a real boy. He's getting doggier by the minute. I didn't want to risk it, not knowing who turned him that way in the first place, or why - but now we do know ..."

"Yeah, the poor mutt." Willow gazed at the oblivious Xander-dog tenderly. "First order of business when we get back to Giles," she said decisively. "De-furri-fy Xander." She turned to Buffybot. "We need to take off downriver again as soon as everyone's had a rest and a meal, Bottie. Do you think you could make some more paddles for us?"

Buffybot bounced to her feet. "You bet I can!" she cried. "And I'm going to make the canoe better too. With outriggers." And she skipped happily off to the river bank, her faithful axe already swinging in her hand.

Buffybot was hard at work. She had the paddles carved, and the first outrigger lashed into place. She had stripped the nearby trees of their creeper, using its hairy tendrils to knot together as rope. Darkness had fallen as she worked, but she wasn't bothered. Her night vision showed her a silvery world, full of little flying insects, and fluttering bats, with the occasional large shape of an owl flitting silently by. The river sighed and gurgled, and at the very edge of her super hearing range she could make out the sound of exhausted Scoobies snoring on the bank above. All was peaceful. And now the second outrigger was built, she needed more creeper. She got up, and scratched a hasty 'back soon! BB' into the mud, in case anyone came down to see how she was getting on, then made her way along the shore looking for more creeper. Ah! Here. She bent to pull it away from the tree trunk - and a hand clamped over her mouth, an arm squeezed her in a vice like grip, and she found herself lifted off her feet, and carried impossibly quickly up into the air, by a creature with huge leathery wings that beat powerfully upwards, carrying them both into the sky.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13 - Into The Sky**_

The members of the expedition had woken, eventually, despite their exhaustion, and gone down to the river to see what Buffybot had wrought. And she'd done a fine job. The new paddles lay in a shiny line, the canoe was fitted up with one outrigger, with a second nearly completed beside it. They saw her note in the mud, so they had put more coffee on the boil, and Willow's knapsack of provisions had been raided for breakfast. The only slight fly in the ointment was the lack of an opener for the can of pineapple Willow had so thoughtfully brought along for Tara.

Tara was trying to be philosophical about it. "After all, I don't actually need pineapple," she said, gazing rather sadly at the can, with its appealing picture of juicy pineapple rings on the label. "I do like it a lot, and I'm really touched you thought to bring me some, sweetie, but I can make do with the brownies and the popcorn." She put some popcorn into her mouth and chewed, smiling bravely.

"How can anyone be dumb enough to bring a can of pineapple with them, but no can opener?" asked Anya, rhetorically. She was leaning against a tree, idly cleaning her nails with the tip of her spear.

Willow scowled at her. "I had a lot on my mind," she said, loudly. "What with the whole trying to save everyone's lives, and all. It was a perfectly natural mistake. And pretty much every can has a ring pull now, anyway."

"Not this one," said Anya, smirking a little.

Willow took a deep breath. "Anyway," she took the can from Tara, "I'll just open it with a spell. No problem."

Xander-dog trotted up, with a large pointed rock in his mouth. He dropped it meaningfully at Tara's feet.

"Hmm, said Tara, "that might work better." She took the can back from Willow, put down the popcorn, and placed the can on the ground, and struck it sharply with the rock. A tiny dent appeared in the metal surface, and the tin sank an inch into the mud. Tara frowned.

Several minutes later, the can, now lying on the 'no parking' sign from the cache of alien artifacts, was rather impressively dented, and Tara was sucking her thumb and forefinger, which she had just struck with a rock, and trying very hard not to swear. She picked up the rock again.

"I guess Tara really does like pineapple," said Anya, winking at the Xander-dog.

"Tara honey," said Willow, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Please let me open it with a spell, before you hurt yourself any more."

Tara tensed, and then sighed, and got up off her knees, dropping the rock as she did so. "Just try not to vaporise the pineapple, sweetie," she said. "Some of your spells can be a little.... vigorous."

Willow patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, I've been practising. It'll be just forceful enough." She muttered some words under her breath, and pointed a finger at the can. There was an explosion, and a huge eruption of mud flew up out of the ground as though a missile had hit it, and showered down on everyone in the vicinity.

There was a long, long silence, broken only by the splat, splat of mud falling from the leaves of the surrounding trees, and back to earth. Four figures seemingly fashioned out of mud stared at each other, frozen into position in a circle around what was now a large crater in the ground. Finally, they all stepped forward as one, and looked down into the hole. Lying at the bottom, a little blackened and scorched, but still intact, was the can of pineapple.

Buffybot dangled upside down over the river, her ankles gripped in the claws of the strange flying creature. They had flown for several hours, following the course of the river, and retracing the canoe trip of yesterday, until finally, as dawn approached, the creature had landed in a huge untidy nest, built in the branches of a huge sequoia overhanging the bank, where it turned her wrong-side-up in second, before she'd had a chance to so much as wriggle.

"Are you comfortable, little servant girl?" whispered a deep silky voice above her.

"Not very," said Buffybot. "All the machine oil is rushing to my head. But it's a very interesting view!" She looked brightly around her, at the silvery water above, and the starry sky below.

The silky voice came again. "And what do you think would happen if I dropped you?"

"I'd probably sink," said Buffybot honestly.

The voice cackled in a sinister fashion, "Not before the crocodiles, and the piranhas found you."

"Ooh!" said Buffybot, determined to keep her eyes open if she _did _get dropped in. She mentally filed through her system specifications. Seeing underwater wasn't mentioned, oddly, but she hoped it came with being guaranteed waterproofed throughout. She wanted to see those piranha!

The clawed hands holding her ankles began to swing her, casually, over the dark water below. "Now," said the voice. "Tell me everything you know about El Bombero. What is he planning? And who are the allies he has summoned to his side, through space and time? You will tell me all, or be eaten alive in the murky waters below."

Buffybot folded her arms, and pursed her lips firmly as he swung her to and fro. No way was she going to tell this bad demon thingie about her friends, or even about El Bombero. So there!

"Just forceful enough, eh?" Anya leant down into the crater, and flicked out the battered can with her spear. She picked it up, wincing a little from the heat, and wedged it into the 'v' where a heavy limb branched from the main trunk of the nearest tree. "What we need here," she said, "is Buffybot's axe." She slipped down onto the shore, picked up the axe from where it lay beside the nearly finished canoe, and scrambled up the bank again.

Her fellows watched with varying degrees of resignation, as she flexed her shoulders, and then slashed the axe downwards with tremendous force into the 'v'. The tree limb trembled, and then with a terrible tearing sound, it sheered off the main trunk and fell to the ground in a death rattle of rustling leaves. The tin of pineapple teetered for a moment, and then fell to the ground with a faint little thump.

"It helps if you actually hit the can with the axe," said Willow smugly.

Anya gave an inarticulate cry of rage, grabbed the can, and hurled it in a great arc out into the river.

There was a faint 'thunk', and a great reptilian head surfaced briefly, its eyes gazing at them malevolently.

"Oh great," said Willow. "Now you've pissed off the crocodile."

"Let me see if I understand this," said Acathla. "You have the power to tear open the veils between worlds, to plunge every planet and the universe it inhabits into the fiery depths of hell and beyond, to bring to a close millennia of history for an infinite variety of civilizations, and plunge yet others into a tumultuous birth. You can end an epoch for countless billions of living creatures, and begin another - and instead you wish to go shopping for a carpet?"

Dawn scowled. It sounded dumb put like that. "_After_ I've saved all my friends, obviously." She folded her arms, and looked at the stained, dusty, scorched and trampled pile beneath her feet. "But mom really loved this carpet, and now it's ruined. It needs fixing. And we need a replacement coffee table, too," she added, her eye falling on the burnt and cracked glass surface beneath the tumbled crucibles. "I know where she bought it from."

"It is possible," said Acathla, speaking carefully, "that you have been in that pathetic human shape too long. It appears to be shaping your thoughts ...."

Dawn stamped her foot. "You are bound to me, demon," she cried, her voice rising with her emotion.

Acathla winced.

"You accepted the sacrifice of my blood, and stepped through the portal prepared by my priestess," continued Dawn. "So now you've got to do what I say, until the blood price is paid." She crossed her fingers behind her back. Having a pair of witches in the house who constantly talked shop might turn out to be useful after all.

"But I don't know anything about carpets!" shouted Acathla, goaded. More plaster fell from the ceiling.

Buffybot plummeted downwards, hitting the water with a tremendous splash. She immediately began to sink like a stone. Just like I said I would! she thought complacently. But her watery plunge was short. She felt a shadow fall on her, and looked down - straight into an enormous pair of opened jaws. It was a crocodile! A leviathan - infinitely bigger than the one that had attacked their canoe. It grabbed her in its incredibly sharp teeth, tossed her once to get her into a head down position, caught her again, and then swallowed her in one gulp.

She couldn't have been more excited.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14 - More Excitement**_

Everyone was getting bored waiting for Buffybot. They had eaten breakfast - without pineapple - packed everything into the canoe, and rootled in a desultory fashion through the scruffy pile of alien artifacts. Now they were sitting about and fidgeting.

There was an odd little 'plip' sound behind them, and everyone jumped. Lying on the ground was a peculiar white ceramic object, shining in the sun. It was about four foot long, and curved like a funfair slide, with a spout at one end, and a little grille at the other. They all stared for a moment, waiting for it to sprout legs and run; then Xander-dog approached and began to sniff, tentatively at first, and then subjecting the object to a thorough molecule by molecule examination.

Willow walked over, and ran a curious hand from the spout, down the inside of the slide, ending with a tap of her fingers on the little grille at the bottom. "No idea what this is made of," she said, "or what it's for. What does it smell of, Xander?"

Xander-dog buried his nose against the material, and snuffed, doubtfully. The hackles on the back of his neck rose. "Demons," he growled.

"But what can it be?" asked Tara wonderingly. "It's kinda beautiful, but so strange..."

Anya raised an eyebrow. "It's a demon's convenience."

"A what?" Tara, Willow and Xander-dog looked at her.

She grinned at them. "A convenience. A public convenience. That grille bit fits into the sewage system. The demon sits on the spout end ...."

"Aargh!" Willow dropped the tube, and held her hand out from her side, as though it were infected. The tube landed on Xander-dog's paw and he set up a high pitched yelping, then sat back, and buried his nose into the mud of the river bank, trying to lose the smell from his nostrils.

"Oh, sweetie," Tara took a little step forward, and patted Willow's hand. The clean hand.

"When I find whoever is causing all these temporal slips," Willow said, her voice thick with passion, "putting their hand in a demon's toilet is going to be the least of the things I do to them." And she strode down to the river bank, and plunged her hand into the water, regardless of crocodiles.

After a long scrubbing, her mouth set in a straight line, she finally stood up, and gazed at her watch. "We need to get moving. Where _is_ the Buffybot?"

"I do hope she's okay," said Tara, worried. It wasn't like the Bot to hold everyone up. In fact she was pathologically prompt.

"I suppose she could have got sucked through another temporal slip," said Anya, bored again. "If they're as common as Willow says. Which means she could be anywhere, or anywhen come to that."

"Poor Bottie!" cried Tara.

"Can Xander follow her trail?" asked Willow, "She can't have gone far."

Xander-dog began to sniff around the canoe, then sat down, frustrated. "She doesn't have a trail." His ears drooped.

"Oh!" cried Tara, "I'll try her cell phone again." She looked across at Willow. "That's the one you put in Buffybot's head. I can project into it. It's a kind of variation on telepathy."

Willow's mouth hung open in surprise. "You're managing to send radio waves? Mentally? To a cell phone in Buffybot's head?"

Tara blushed. "It doesn't work all the time, just when I'm ... well, upset or feeling strongly." She gazed about her at the campsite, and her weary and bedraggled party. "Like now, I guess." She closed her eyes, and a frown of concentration appeared on her face.

Dawn took a deep breath and stepped out of the portal. Here she was. The Key. Entering another world. Protected by a demon slave, bound to her by the deepest and most profound blood magic. It was really kinda cool.

She stepped forward - and cursed. Her gold, strappy, spike-heeled sandals had sunk up to their elegant insteps in the steaming black mud. She dragged her right foot out of the morass with an obscene squelching noise, and then hesitated, standing on one foot. There was nothing for it. She pulled the sandal off, and then stood on her bare right foot in the slimy ooze, and removed the second sandal. Pooh! She wrinkled her nose. The mud stank. So much for a brave new world. She preferred asphalt.

She turned around. Acathla had stepped out of the portal behind her, and was in an even worse state, buried up to his knees, and sinking fast. He sighed. "I humbly beg that you rescue your devoted servant Acathla, oh Goddess," he intoned, a total lack of conviction in his tone.

"Perhaps I can assist, Your Divineness?"

Dawn turned again. Standing a few feet away was a Sorcerer. Tall, dark and mysterious, with glowing red eyes set beneath the shadow of his turban, and a magic wand clasped in his hand.

She inclined her head, graciously. "Well, that would be very kind of you, ye ..."

"No!" It was Giles. A red faced and panting Giles, struggling up beside the Sorcerer, shirt flapping, and glasses askew.

A faint ripple of annoyance crossed the Sorcerer's face, and the wand in his hand twitched.

"Dawn!" cried Giles, "What are you ...? Never mind, just remember, whatever you do, don't accept any favours from this man." He pointed at the Sorcerer, and then paused, and swung back to face the figure behind her. "Is that ..? Good Lord, it's Acathla. What's he doing here?"

"Sinking in the mud," said Acathla, pointedly. He was up to his elbows now.

Giles looked at Dawn. "Well, from the fact that he hasn't ripped your heart out, or dragged us all into a hell dimension, I imagine he must be constrained in some fashion." He stared at Acathla. "This is really jolly interesting, and possibly unprecedented," he murmured absently, "I can't recall any comparable instances, anyway."

"Giles!" Dawn spoke sharply. "How are we going to get him out? He weighs tons."

"I could of course assist, young lady." It was the Sorcerer again.

Giles flashed him an irritated glance, then turned back to Acathla, who was sinking rapidly. He gestured to the narrowing swirl of blackness behind Acathla's head. "Could you bring something else through that portal?"

Buffybot looked around the inside of the crocodile with her excellent night vision. It was a little bit disappointing, if she was honest. She'd been hoping for enormous shiny organs, all pulsing away, and blood coursing around everywhere in huge transparent arteries. Instead of which everything was grey, and bulbous, and there was a lot of mucus, slithering over everything and making it terribly difficult to move around. And dead fish. Lots of dead fish.

So all in all, when her cell phone rang, she was grateful for the distraction.

"Hi Tara!"

"Bottie!" Buffybot winced, and turned down the volume a tiny bit. Tara was shouting, she must be excited about something.

"Bottie, I'm so glad you're safe!" cried Tara, her voice echoing strangely inside the crocodile's stomach. "But where are you? We've been looking for you everywhere."

Golly. Buffybot squirmed with remorse. She'd been having such an adventure, she hadn't even thought about how worried everyone would be about her disappearing.

"Don't worry about me, Tara," she said. "I'm perfectly safe here in this crocodile."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and some muttered conversation heard from a distance. "I'm sorry," said Tara, after a moment. "I thought for a moment there you said you were in a crocodile."

"Yes, I am!" said Buffybot. "It's a very big crocodile, luckily," she added, in case Tara was worrying about her being squashed.

Tara drew a deep breath. "Whereabouts are you? We saw a crocodile just a minute ago. Anya hit it with a tin of pineapple."

Buffybot's eyes widened. Anya was getting ever so ambitious with her hunting skills, wasn't she? "Ooh! it couldn't be that one," she said, "This crocodile is way downstream from you guys. It swallowed me after the flying demon kidnapped me and flew me to his nest. He hung me upside down and tried to get me to tell him about El Bombero, and then he dropped me in the river," she added, feeling rather indignant, now she thought about it.

She heard a sharp intake of breath on the line, and then Tara's voice boomed in her ear. "The big _bully. _We're coming to rescue you, Bottie, don't you worry. You just hang right in there. We're on our way!"

_Postscript_

After Tara's disturbing conversation with Buffybot, the Scoobies had piled aboard their canoe, and after a bit of milling around, and some arguing about seats, they were gone, pulling away from the shore as fast as they could paddle. As the splash of paddles faded into the distance, there was another faint 'plip' in their old campsite, and a kitchen drawer appeared on the bank, full of cutlery, potato peelers, spatulas and wooden spoons, skewers and paring knives, and - shining in the tropical sun - a large silver can opener.

An expectant silence filled the air, and then a faint, almost inaudible sigh. They'd gone. Why did no one ever stay still?


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15 - They'd Gone**_

The crocodile was in a very bad mood. Very bad indeed. After a blameless half century swimming casually up and down the muddy river, snatching unwary fish and the occasional preoccupied forest deer to their watery doom, and growing progressively longer, scaly inch by scaly inch, life had become more exciting. Weird and wonderful alien creatures had appeared in the forest - and he had eaten them. Chattering people and monkeys had appeared, and he had eaten them too. And lately, he had learned that if he rested quietly below the new bird creature's eyrie, sooner or later a tasty morsel would fall from the sky, so he didn't even need to glide up and down the river bank any more. All in all, the crocodile felt, he had it made.

And then. And then, the bird creature had dropped this latest offering, and he had snapped it up, naturally. But the Buffybot was lying very heavy on his stomach, still kicking, and completely failing to be dissolved. The crocodile shifted uncomfortably, and wondered if he shouldn't have tucked her under a sunken tree root to putrefy for a few weeks, after all. But she had seemed so small and tender! Easy meat, literally. It was possible he had become lazy. The crocodile swished his tail in an irritated sweep across the river bed, and belched, and made a resolution to get out more.

Deep inside his stomach, the Buffybot was exploring. Grey, bulbous and full of mucous and putrefying fish though it was, it was still a crocodile's stomach, and that was surely worth a look around? She wriggled downwards (causing the crocodile to writhe uncomfortably) and found the valve at the bottom that led into his intestines. Lying in a little hollow beneath the valve was a little collection of pebbles, worn into exotic shapes by the action of the crocodile's digestion. Buffybot pounced on them with a little ooh of delight. Pebbles! She loved pebbles. She looked up at the valve, calculating. She wondered if there were more pebbles further down?

……………..

The jungle expedition paddled vigorously along the river, while their watch-dog searched the trees above for a large nest in the branches, as described by the Buffybot. Willow and Tara had put their heads together, trying to finesse a spell to stun a giant crocodile, while Anya was mentally rehearsing the exact spear throw needed to make a fatal thrust into its throat. They were all ready for action.

"There!" Xander-dog shouted, and he lifted a paw, and pointed his nose into the trees. Everyone looked up. In the tree they were approaching was an enormous, dishevelled nest of twigs and branches, at least six feet across. The nest, and all the supporting branches, were liberally spattered with guano, and a large reeking pile of stripped white bones and bits of fur and flesh lay on the bank below.

"Oh, charming," said Willow, wrinkling her nose.

Anya looked disgusted. "A harpy demon," she said, "and it's gone native. How revolting. A demon should have higher standards." She gazed at her neatly manicured nails complacently, and patted her mud-splattered hair.

Willow raised an eyebrow at Tara, then looked around her. "So, now all we have to do is find the crocodile."

The water erupted in front of them, and a huge reptilian, four times the length of their canoe, leapt out of the water. There was a collective scream from the canoe. The crocodile belly-flopped spectacularly into the river, and then coughed, once, twice, three times, its body convulsing. On the third cough the Buffybot sailed out of its opened jaws in a stream of mucous, river water and putrefied fish. She flew through the air with tremendous force, and struck the canoe amidships with her head. There was an ominous cracking sound, and the canoe began to ship water. The crocodile turned tail, and swam rapidly away, leaving an agitated s-shaped wake behind him.

Buffybot lay in the bottom of the canoe, plastered with slime, her eyes closed.

"Bottie!" cried Tara. "Are you all right?"

Buffybot's eyes snapped open. "Hi guys!" she cried merrily. "Did you see me fly? It was super cool!" And then her eyes closed again, and she went limp.

…………….

Giles engaged the four-wheel drive, put his foot to the pedal of the tow truck, and began to drive cautiously forwards. The towrope tightened under Acathla's armpits, and with a huge ugly sucking sound, he began to be dragged up out of the mud.

Dawn clapped her hands. "Go Giles!" she cried, banging the truck's back panel.

Acathla's legs came free, and he shot across the muddy surface, landing in a tangle at Dawn's feet. He stood up, and removed the rope, his expression unreadable.

Giles stopped the vehicle, and stepped out, casting a triumphant look at El Bombero. "Now," he said, "we only have to find the others, go dinosaur hunting, and sort out all those annoying temporal slips. Child's play."

……………

_Kernel panic!_ Buffybot opened her eyes. That sounded familiar. She'd gone off-line again! What had happened? She was lying on her back, on the riverbank. He looked up into a circle of anxious faces. Tara and Willow gazed down at her, hair falling forwards around their faces. Xander-dog's nose was nearly touching her ear, and he was drooling slightly on her neck. How sweet! She reached up to ruffle his ears, and he wiped his wet nose on her chin.

"Hi guys," she said brightly, sitting up and rubbing her head. Whoa! Her gyroscopes were still a bit wobbly. She took Tara's steadying hand, and stumbled to her feet. "That was great!" she said. "I've never flown before, _or_ been in a crocodile's stomach."

"I don't suppose you've ever wrecked a canoe by banging it with your head before, either," said Anya.

Buffybot swung round, and looked out over the river. The two split halves of the canoe were still floating, belly up, and low in the water. Oops! She felt her forehead. It seemed a bit flatter than usual. But still, she could always make another canoe, and Willow could knock out the ding in her forehead from the inside, during her next service. She brought her mind back to essentials, and held out her hand. "Look, I found some cute shaped pebbles in the crocodile. You can all have one."

Everyone looked at the collection of stones in her hand.

"That one looks a bit like a donut," said Xander-dog, sniffing at a grey stone with a hole worn right through it.

Willow plucked a swirly green stone out of the collection. "And this one looks like a gemstone." She took it from Buffybot's palm and turned it over. "Serpentine, maybe."

As she held it up in the light, the stone seemed to stir in her hand, and the swirls shifted, subtly at first, and then with greater and greater speed, like a storm moving across the ocean.

"And it has a spell in it," said Tara. "Why am I not surprised?"

…………..

Giles drove the heavy duty tow truck summoned through the portal by Acathla along the forest path, Dawn beside him. Acathla was sitting uncomfortably, perched on the crane arm in the open bed of the truck, having proved too large to squeeze into the cab. The crane arm creaked a little under Acathal's shifting weigfht, and the truck listed. El Bombero sat beside him, uninvited. As Giles listened to Dawn's colourful account of Willow's latest experiments with magic, he shook his head.

"What on earth she thought she was doing using _your_ blood for any kind of ritual ... You're the Key, for goodness sake. Brains do not equal common sense for that young lady, do they?" He patted Dawn's hand. "Still, you've done jolly well, and Acathla is going to prove very useful - until he breaks the bonds of his captivity, of course. When I expect he will try to rip our still beating hearts from our writhing bodies, and eat them whole."

Dawn shivered, and Giles patted her hand. "Never a dull moment, is there?" he asked cheerfully. In the back of the truck, the crane arm creaked a little under Acathla's shifting weight, and the truck listed. El Bombero scrambled to the roof of the cab, where he took hold of the large siren attached there, and gave a high spirited holler. Giles pursed his lips, and then accelerated the truck, causing both Acathla and El Bombero to grab convulsively for a handhold. Giles looked into the rearview mirror and grinned, and took the next bend with a flourish.

…………..

The Scoobies stood around the swirling green gemstone, watching it rock from side to side. Its outlines were beginning to blur.

"Why don't you Wonder Witches stop it?" said Anya. "I'm sure someone stuck whatever it is in there for a reason."

"Can't," said Willow tersely. "The sunlight's released it."

"Well in that case," said Anya, as the stone grew to the size a small green dumpling, and then a basketball, "I suggest we run!" And she set off for the nearest thicket of trees, closely followed by Xander-dog.

Willow and Tara looked at each other, and at Buffybot, who was staring entranced at the whirling green ball, which was growing by the second, and spinning faster and faster until it was a mere blur.

"There's a lot of kinetic energy in that," said Tara.

"There's a lot of kinetic energy in that," said Tara.

"Which has to be released," added Willow

They looked at one another. "Run!" they both said simultaneously, and they sprinted away after Anya and Xander-dog.

Buffybot took a few steps after them, and then stopped and turned, fascinated. The whirling green ball was nearly six feet tall now, and it was making a high keening noise as it spun.

"Bottie!" It was Tara's voice in her head, sounding both exasperated and scared. Buffybot jumped, and began to run. As she took the first few steps, the world exploded around her, and a blast of energy knocked her off her feet. She slid a few feet further on her stomach, and then came to a halt covered in mud and leaves. After a moment, she felt a hand fall on her shoulder and jolly British voice boomed in her ear.

"Hello, hello. Did I knock you over, little person? I'm most terribly sorry!"

She was hauled effortlessly to her feet, and found herself looking into a large red face, in which was set a pair of extraordinary serpentine green eyes, the irises still full of swirling storm and tempest. The face was attached to a large head, set on an equally large, and very definitely female, body, and dressed in a large hooded robe.

"Wow!" Buffybot said. "You have really funny swivelly eyes. How do you make them do that?"

_End of chapter_

you may be thinking that crocodiles are not really much given to introspection, but I remind you this is an alien crocodile, on an alien world - and if I told you he loved his mummy, and painted pictures of puppies and kittens peeping out of Christmas stockings in his spare time, you would be obliged to believe me.

I assure you he did not do this.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16 - How Did You Make Them Do That?**_

"Well, 'swivelly' is one way of putting it. I prefer 'Holy orbs, washed by sunshine and storm.' That's from a poem. About me! Young men are daft aren't they?" The strange woman gave a hearty laugh, and slapped Buffybot on the back. Buffybot tottered forward a foot under the weight of the blow. Golly, the nice lady was very strong!

The lady blinked, and her irises stopped moving. "One of my aspects is Tempestra, Bringer of Storms." She drew herself up to her full, impressive height of seven feet or so, and held out an imperious hand. Lightning flashed, and sizzled to the ground, immolating the nearest vine.

"Wow!" said Buffybot.

The lady smiled modestly. "I'm in retirement now, of course. I settled down, married my dear Arturo, and took on a human aspect, so I didn't accidentally burn him alive, or crush his puny little limbs into kindling in an absent minded moment. It's nice to revert a bit now and then, though." She took a deep lungful of air, and breathed out. A gout of flame emerged.

Buffybot stepped back a pace.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" said her new friend. "Just clearing the old tubes out a bit. I won't do it again." She bent down, and smiled at Buffybot, her red face flushed, and her green eyes glowing. "So, who are you, my pretty little friend? And do you always bathe in fish sauce, or is this a special occasion?"

"I'm the Buffybot, and I _am_ pretty, aren't I?" said Buffybot, delighted. "In fact, I'm normally even prettier, because I have lovely blonde hair with a natural curl; but I've been stuck in a crocodile's stomach for ages, and I haven't had a chance to get a shower and shampoo yet. The crocodile's where the fish came from," she brushed a lingering speck of river trout from her sweater, "And it's where I found you, as well!"

"Well, well, how very interesting," said Tempestra. "You must tell me all about it. After I've said hello to your friends." And she made a beckoning gesture with her right hand.

Anya, Xander-dog, Tara and Willow emerged backwards from the shelter of the trees, their dug-in heels creating furrows in the forest litter. Willow was reciting fiercely, her hands making complex figures in the air. Tempestra made a casual flicking gesture with her left hand and Willow froze in mid gesture.

"Now," said Tempestra, beaming at them all. "Let's all sit down and have a little chat, shall we?"

The tow truck careered into the clearing, horn tooting. El Bombero knelt perilously on the cabin roof, hollering a Sorcerous war cry. Acathla swung the crane he sat on, making it veer wildly about. Dawn crouched down in her seat, eyes closed.

Giles steered the tow truck into a looping showy half turn, and slammed on the brakes in a spray of leaf litter. El Bombero and Acathla were thrown violently about, hanging on for dear life. The truck drew finally to a halt, brakes screaming, wheels skidding.

"Ha!" said Giles, shutting down the engine, and releasing his seatbelt. "I haven't lost my rallying skills, I see. Though the truck is too unwieldy for any _really _tight cornering."

Dawn cast him a bitter look. "You're nuts, Giles, you know that? You could have killed us all! And you guys may be ancient and wrinkly and tired of life, but I am way too young to die." She unbuckled her seatbelt, and jumped out of the cab, slamming the door for emphasis. She strode across the clearing, towards the shady hammock where Spike was lying, high-heeled sandals swinging from her hand.

"Whoo hoo!" cried El Bombero, clambering down from the cab roof. "That was more fun than I've had in ages, Ripper!"

The tow truck creaked, and then bounced upwards a few inches as Acathla dismounted from the crane. "Riding this metal steed is strangely invigorating," he said, "even though it's shaken a few chunks of rock loose."

"Wouldn't hurt you to lose weight, anyway, old son," said El Bombero, slapping Acathla on the back. A dark frown appeared on Acathla's brow, and he patted his stomach self-consciously. The Sorcerer was spouting nonsense of course - he hadn't eaten any fatty sacrifices in ages. Hearts, and livers, all the way.

……………

Tempestra and her guests sat in a big circle on the riverbank, drinking herbal tea. She had listened with great interest to the tale of their adventures, and had been extremely eloquent about how grateful she was to them all for rescuing her from the crocodile, no matter how accidentally. She had admired Anya's spear, and complimented Xander-dog's bristling eyebrows, she had marvelled at the wonderful spells Tara and Willow had been casting, and had sympathised with their terrible ordeals by mosquito, heatstroke, dinosaur and crocodile.

All in all, she had been so pleasant, and so warmly admiring, that they barely noticed the spells weaving around them, holding them to their seats and compelling their stories from their mouths. And the tea was nice too.

Buffybot blinked, drowsily. She was getting along splendidly with her new friend, but there was one thing she needed to ask. What was it? Oh, yes ...

"Are you really Mrs El Bombero?" she said, sipping dreamily at her tea. "Because I think he's mean."

Tempestra laughed. "Dear me, no. El Bombero is a nickname, not a surname. The Fireman, or The Pump, or The Bomb, take your pick. I certainly have, on different occasions." She winked at Anya, who raised an eyebrow. "I am married to him though, yes. Dear Arturo. And he's not really mean, little Buffybot. Just careful, as Sorcerers learn to be. They spend so much of their time around very unpleasant people, you know."

"Can I ask a question, too?" It was Tara, who was now leaned up against Willow, dreamily picking dried saliva from her skirt with one hand, and scratching Xander-dog's tummy with the other.

Tempestra nodded. "Of course you can, sweet Tara."

"I wondered, well we wondered," Tara took Willow's hand. "How you came to be imprisoned in that piece of serpentine, and how it got into a crocodile, and how we came to discover you." She blinked. "I guess that's more than one question, actually."

Tempestra rubbed her chin. "But all linked, as you have spotted." She rose to her feet, and took the kettle from the fire. "It's a long story, so I'll tell you along the way - after I've got rid of this nasty mess." She crossed the clearing and pointed to the Harpy's nest, and the guano-spotted heap of bones beneath it. The tree and the pile burst into flame with a great 'whomp', and were consumed in seconds, ash raining down from the sky to form a neat conical pile. Tempestra looked modestly satisfied. She stepped forward, and emptied the kettle on to the ashes, "But it all started," she continued, in the same tone, gesturing encouragingly for everyone to get up and stir themselves, "when I decided to become a Girl Scout Leader."

…………

Across the clearing, Dawn was explaining the presence of Acathla to an interested Spike.

"Blood sacrifice, eh?" he said, looking at the plaster on Dawn's elbow. "The witch is getting mighty ambitious, isn't she?"

"And binding Acathla to me wasn't what she planned at all," said Dawn, indignant, "I could have been killed, or he could have swallowed the planet or something!" She remembered the chalk pentacle, and decided not to go into details about how she had broken it with her own backside.

Spike patted her shoulder, his eyes straying to where Giles, El Bombero and Acathla were milling around the truck, discussing the finer points of rally driving, "Would you look at that lot? I haven't smelled that much middle-aged testosterone in one place since I gatecrashed the Professional Footballers Lifetime Achievement Awards dinner back in '73. Still, at least we've got a truck at last." He flexed his fingers, "and once I've winkled Mr Tweed out from behind the steering wheel, I should be able to thrash it along a bit." He frowned, "Oh, what's he doing now?" he muttered.

For Giles had bounced into the cab of the truck, and re-emerged, bearing a box of tools. He and El Bombero rummaged through the box, their heads together in earnest conversation. Finally, El Bombero handed him a spanner. Giles stripped off his shirt, flexed his arms a little, and as Acathla raised the truck off the ground with a casual hand, he disappeared beneath it. Soon a muffled banging could be heard. Spike looked down at Dawn again, and ruffled her hair, but then his eyes were drawn inexorably back to the shiny truck, and the sounds of work being done. His hands twitched impatiently. "The daft bugger. You don't just go around banging things with a spanner. And those other two wouldn't know a truck transmission from an elephant's arse. Look at 'em." He ground his teeth in frustration.

Dawn groaned. Now _all _the boys wanted to play.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17 - Everyone Gets to Play**_

Buffybot quivered, thrilled to her very core. Tempestra was a Girl Scout Leader! Leader in fact, of the first ever Demon Girl Scout troop. She'd known Tempestra was cool, but this was beyond anything she could have expected.

As they walked along, with Buffybot, Tempestra and Anya in front, and Xander-dog and the witches following behind, Buffybot peppered Tempestra with questions about Scouting.

"Well, of course, I had to invent some of my own badges," said Tempestra. "Vegetarian Cookery and Celebrating People were never going to be appropriate, and my little students _would_ keep eating the rats before they could qualify for the Pet Care badge. Not to speak of the horse I got for the Riding badge." She sighed, "Still, we did very well with the Hunting, Tracking and Outdoor Creativity courses. Perhaps it was a mistake to introduce badges for Magical Achievement, though. Especially the one for Binding Spells - but it was so terribly popular. Though, oddly, no-one volunteered for the 'Unbinding Spells' badge."

Probably, said Anya, rolling her eyes, "because they were a bunch of evil demons."

"Yes," said Tempestra, looking sad, "Perhaps I was a little optimistic about overcoming their basically antisocial tendencies. Though Empowerment through Organized Fun has such positive effects upon negative self image. I read a book about it."

"I guess," whispered Willow to Tara, as they followed along behind, "we just found out how she got put into that pebble."

Anya looked across at Tempestra. "And what was your normal recruitment method to your Troop, just out of interest?"

"That's an excellent question, Anyanka dear," said Tempestra, smiling encouragingly at her. Her face became serious, "I'm afraid you have to be very firm with young demons, since so few of them are brought up to respect their elders these days. And it is often very hard to persuade their parents too, especially since I was obliged to issue a rather lengthy disclaimer regarding mutilations and fatalities, demons being what they are. In the end I found I had to use quite forceful methods, for their own good of course." She flexed a hefty shoulder.

"So basically, you just beat them up until they signed on the dotted line? Good method," said Anya, nodding approvingly.

"And now," whispered Willow to Tara, "I guess we just found out _why _she got put in that pebble."

Buffybot's ears twitched, and her eyes grew round. Golly! Scouting was a lot more hazardous than she'd realised.

Twilight had fallen in the forest, releasing Spike from his frustrating spectator's role. The moment the sun had sunk behind the trees, he had catapaulted out of his resting place and laid a possessive hand on the truck door. Where a rather distressing dispute had erupted.

"I am not letting you drive this truck, Spike" said Giles, his tone patronising. "You are the worst driver it has ever been my misfortune to meet. You career through the world, leaving a trail of smoking and shattered wrecks in your wake." He had the truck's bonnet up, and a greasy rag in his hand. There was an oil smear on his sweaty cheek, and various grubby marks were scattered across his bare torso. Giles was busy tuning up his new baby.

"And you drive like an old woman," yelled Spike, deeply offended. "Even in your shiny red penis-mobile."

"A car shaped like a penis?" said Acathla thoughtfully, "that would be a worthy votive offering, indeed." He walked around the truck, and ran a hand over the crane arm at the back, musing on the possibilities.

Arturo was resting his elbows on the wing of the truck, his head also under the hood, watching the confrontation with a grin on his face. He had rolled up the sleeves of his Sorcerer's robe, revealing a pair of sinewy forearms, and a rather nice Rolex watch on his left wrist. A screwdriver dangled from his fingers. He had no idea what he was doing, of course, but it was strangely fascinating all the same.

Dawn sulked in the hammock so recently abandoned by Spike. She had a cup of tea and a banana with black bits in it, delivered by what had looked suspiciously like a monkey, though it was too dark for her to see properly. The whole thing was very anticlimactic for a cross-dimensional goddess, she felt. And her demon slave seemed far more interested in car mechanics than her regal self. She kicked petulantly at the netting with a golden toed sandal, setting herself swinging. Then she turned her head. Was that voices she heard in the distance? She slipped out of the hammock, and peered into the darkness. There was a sudden mysterious reek of fish.

"Dawnie!" Dawn staggered backwards under the impact of the Buffybot, who was hugging her, hard. She felt herself lifted off her feet, and swung in an enthusiastic circle.

"But what are you doing here?" cried Buffybot. "We thought you were combating evil all by yourself in Sunnydale." She paused. "Oh dear, this is terrible - you'll have missed your Algebra and Language Arts classes."

Dawn brightened. Maybe the jungle wasn't so bad after all. "I came to rescue you guys," she said importantly. "I've bound the demon Acathla to my service, and he's really good at portals and stuff."

"Ooh!" Buffybot's eyes shone. "You're so smart, Dawnie!" She turned and cried out to the figures approaching in the gloom. "Guys! It's Dawn, and she's come to save us!"

Dawn squinted. Some of the figures looked familiar, but who was the giantess? And where was Xander?

Spike had opened the truck door and jumped into the cab, planning to rev it up a bit. Unhappily for him, the ignition keys were not there. He banged the steering wheel, and then stepped out again, planning to wrest the keys from Giles' hand.

And stopped short. There was a new arrival in the clearing. A monumental woman stood by the truck, while Giles and Arturo stood in front of her, jaws gaping.

She turned and looked down at Spike with amusement. "Well, well, if it isn't a vampire." She reached out a huge hand. Spike flinched back a foot, then realised he was being offered a polite handshake. He raised an eyebrow and stepped away.

Acathla appeared from behind the back of the truck, with an earthshaking thud.

The large woman's smile broadened. "And the demon lord. My goodness." She nodded to the stony, barrel-chested demon. "Are you really called Agatha? It seems unlikely on closer examination."

The four would-be mechanics gaped at her, truck temporarily forgotten. Finally, Giles started into life. "It's Acathla," he said, licking his lips, "not Agatha. But, but .... Tempestra, is that really you? Arturo and I thought you had ascended."

"Ah, Acathla! That's much more likely. I must have misheard the young lady." Tempestra nodded to the demon, who gave a stiff bow in return. She turned to Giles. "And yes, Ripper, it's me. In the flesh. Unascended as you see. How are you? Still taking off your shirt at every opportunity, I see, and flexing those lovely biceps of yours."

There was a snort of laughter, quickly muffled, from the group of Scoobies huddled behind her.

"We really did think you'd ascended," gasped Arturo, his words tumbling over each other. "I searched for you through every plane and dimension, and could find nothing. In the end I had to assume you'd been ambushed by some cabal of demons or other, probably opposed to your excellent ... er outreach work with their youngsters. I've been burning a scented candle, and sacrificing a haddock on your altar every Monday," he added. And then tears sprung to his eyes. "My dearest love!" he cried, and he flung himself into Tempestra's large and powerful arms. She swooped him up in a swirl of sorcerer's robes, and soon the sounds of enthusiastic kissing could be heard.

"Blimey," muttered Spike, disgusted, "It's worse than 'Days of Our Lives' round here."

Buffybot looked on, delighted. She was so glad her new friend was happy. She was even glad that El Bombero was happy, although he was a evil villain. Her bright enquiring glance fell on Giles, who was standing to one side of the kissing couple, spanner dangling forgotten in his fingers, and looking a bit lonely. Poor Giles! He didn't have anyone to kiss.

Back at the river, the harpy returned to its nest, a luckless forest deer clutched in its talons. It back flapped its wings, coming into land, and then started, and nearly fell out of the sky. Its tree was gone! Its claws flexed open with astonishment and the little deer tumbled thirty feet downwards, where it landed in the river with a splash. (Mercifully, the crocodile had permanently abandoned its feeding post after its Buffybot trauma, and deer was able to swim quietly to shore, heave itself out onto the bank, and run off in to the forest again, where it had forgotten all about the incident by the time the sun had risen in the morning. Deer lead simple lives.)

The Harpy demon rose into the sky, crying out in fury. It had put years into that nest! Years of effort, and tons of branches, twigs, animal bones and fur, skin, scales and guano, all glued together with harpy spit. Beautiful! And now some vandal had come along and destroyed it in an instant. It quivered with rage. El Bombero! It had to be El Bombero. It flew off into the night, vowing vengeance and destruction.

Buffybot and her little expedition came down to the riverbank. Giles, Arturo and Tempestra has settled down to a long discussion by the fire, with much tea drinking, but before she'd sat down, Tempestra had gone to her long neglected cache of personal stores, and produced a bar of orange soap and bottle of apple shampoo ("I like feeling fruity") which she had tactfully presented to Buffybot, with a suggestion that some expedition members might wish to "freshen up a little".

Buffybot had clasped the presents to her bosom as if they were holy relics. It was all very well keeping one's morale up in the jungle through a positive attitude and a creative search for food and tools, and of course she didn't sweat or sunburn, but still, 48 hours without shampoo had been an eternity. She wondered at the strange failure of her Book of Wilderness Tips to mention the necessity of taking shampoo with you at all times, and made a little note to email the author once she was home.

And of course, she had shared her spoils with the rest of the expedition. Dawn had denied being even slightly dirty, though she had given Buffybot her sandals to wash. Spike had turned his nose up at the whole idea of mussing his hair with apple shampoo, and Giles was too busy talking. But soon the riverbank was littered with pink and naked witches, ex-demons, bots and one happy, wet and soapy little furry dog. It was an idyllic scene.

Until a harpy descended from the darkness, and, screaming its terrible scream, plucked Xander dog from the spot where lay panting on the shore, and flapped off into the night, his little furry body dangling from its claws.

_End chapter_


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter 18 - The Harpy's Claws_**

There was chaos. Everyone ran around, trying to drag their clothes on over wet bodies, tripping over their pants and cursing. Soap and shampoo flew everywhere, and Anya set off running into the forest after the harpy, naked and Amazonian, spear in hand. Tara shouted after her, "No! Anya!" And when that had no effect she flung a little spell ball after the charging ex-demon, and Anya abruptly tripped over her own spear, and landed face down in the dirt.

Tara turned to Buffybot. "Fetch her back, Bottie. She'll probably try to hit you with that spear, so be careful."

Buffybot raced to obey. Anya had regained her feet, and was setting off determinedly again, so she executed a tidy football tackle, and then swung Anya over her shoulder, picked up the spear, and trotted proudly back to Tara, while Anya kicked and cursed, and tried in vain to rip her ear off. She dumped the naked ex-demon at her Expedition Leader's feet, and then felt her ear. Luckily, Willow had welded it back on extra strongly after the accident with her axe. She zinged a big grin at Willow and Tara. "My ear stayed on this time!" she said proudly.

Tara cast her an absent minded little smile. "Yay for our new aluminium welding kit."

Willow was muttering through the words of an incantation, one hand in the air. She stopped. "Hah!" she said, "Got 'em." A little glow ball appeared in the air.

Tara leant down to Anya, who was seething on the floor. "Willow's just connected with a tracking spell, Anya. We can trace where the harpy's taken Xander. Though I think we'll need the truck to have any chance of keeping up with him." She handed Anya her clothes and shoes, and then the two witches set off hurriedly in the direction of the clearing. Anya cursed again, cast Buffybot a dirty look, and then staggered to her feet, ripped her spear from the Bot's hand, and limped away after the retreating witches.

Buffybot stared at the sky for a moment. The harpy and poor Xander has disappeared. She shivered. What if it ate him, or dropped him into the river and the crocodile ate him? People were so fragile! She ran after her friends, determined to do everything she could to save her little furry friend.

As the witches clattered into the clearing to give their terrible news, they heard a second, terrible shrill scream. They gave one another a horrified glance and sprinted towards the sound. What could have happened now? Had the harpy picked off another member of the party?

They came to a confused halt. Who was missing? There was a knot of menfolk and a one demon gathered around the figure of Dawn, who lay in the comforting arms of Tempestra. Monkeys peered from the branches, tails aswish. For Dawn, who had repaired to her hammock awaiting the return of her sandals, had finally bitten into her banana.

The harpy flew high over the tree tops, cursing its luck. It had wanted a person! Someone to torture for information about the accursed El Bombero's plans. It had come to realise that it had lost its patience far too quickly with the little blonde girl, and tossed her to the crocodile before it had even tried pulling out a fingernail or two.

But all the people had been in the river, presenting no satisfactory target. The only thing it could reach was the little dog. Which was now squirming and yelping in its claws in a very irritating manner. The harpy hesitated a moment, considering. People were ridiculously fond of their dogs, it knew. Could it find the dog's owner, and threaten to rip the revolting little canine to bits unless he or she talked? It shook its head, irritated. That was all far too complex, and dangerous. Its stomach rumbled, and the harpy was decided. It would eat the dog for supper, pathetic meal though it would make, and then stalk the party again and seek another victim.

After a few seconds of confusion, as everyone's agitated stories and explanations cut across one another, Willow's breathless news of poor Xander's fate re-directed interest from Dawn's encounter with the beetles. Tempestra dropped Dawn with a thump, and shook a fist at the sky.

"Kapla!" she cried. "I should have hunted you down and ripped your feathers out when I found your nest. I should have taken this pebble," she reached into her pocket and drew out the piece of serpentine in which she had been imprisoned, and brandished it, "and choked you with it. I should have tied you to a tree and immolated you with my fiery breath."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Tara. "Halitosis?"

Tara smothered a grin, and then jumped and shrank back, as Tempestra turned purple, and steam began to escape from her nostrils. Dawn rolled sharply to one side as sparks began to drip from the Scout Leader's hair and sizzle on the ground below. The monkeys, after a few quick alarmed whistles, disappeared into the canopy, leaving nothing but a few rustling leaves behind them. Everyone backed away. A great gout of flame emerged from Tempestra's mouth, and the leaves on the ground before her crackled and smoked.

Spike was impressed. "She really does breathe fire," he said. "Now that's a sight to see. I wonder if she scorched a few short hairs off old Ripper back in the day?"

Buffybot stepped into the widening circle around Tempestra and rested a gentle hand on her forearm, ignoring the scorching heat, and the crackling hair, as it whipped around the goddess's head in a storm of electrical energy. "Remember the Girl Scout Promise," she whispered.

The sparks died down, and the fire blew out as Tempestra mastered herself with a massive effort. "You are quite right, little Buffybot," she said at last. "Just because Kapla has broken her Girl Scout Promise, and ground it contemptuously into the dirt with her vile, stinking talons; just because she has defiled her Girl Scout badges with her foul droppings, and spat her filthy spittle upon her Girl Scout neckerchief, that is no reason for me to follow suit."

"Why the hell not?" yelled Anya. "She has my darling little Xander in her talons. He may have been ripped apart by now. Burning alive's too good for her!" She clipped Giles round the ear, and he yelped. "We are following Willow's tracking spell, and then shooting the evil bitch out of the sky, so get that truck started, now," she cried, thumping the ground with her spear, "We need to chase her down."

"I may be able to save him through some sort of summoning spell," said Arturo, "if I can just get a fix ... Giles, Tempestra I need your help."

Giles paused, torn, and then with a groan he threw the truck keys to a smirking Spike and hurried after Arturo and Tempestra as they crossed the clearing, robes flapping and sparks flying.

Dawn scrambled up from her inelegant position on the forest floor, brushing ineffectually at the scorch marks on her jeans. Everyone save Acathla was hurrying off to the truck, ignoring her. But then they were trying to save poor darling Xander. She should help. She looked around. Where were her sandals? Surely Buffybot couldn't have forgotten them? The truck roared into life across the clearing, and accelerated away in a squeal of tyres. Dawn could see Buffybot clinging to the cab roof, like a tiny blonde monkey. She stamped her bare right foot. She would have to find her sandals herself, and then see what she could do. "Acathla," she said imperiously, "carry me to the river bank."

Within minutes they approached the scene of Xander's abduction. Moonlight illuminated a scene of disarray. Stray socks, grubby towels and lathered soap lay scattered about, and a part empty bottle of apple shampoo bobbed pathetically in the river, besides something else ... Dawn screwed up her eyes. It was! One of her sandals bobbed upside down beside the shampoo bottle. She scrambled from Acathla's arms, and ran towards the bank. And here was her other sandal, lying in the mud. She picked it up, and then looked again out into the river at the second sandal. Too far to reach from the bank. She turned and looked at Acathla.

He glowered. "I will sink, Majesty, in the mud of the river bottom, long before I reach it." He held up a large, large hand, "and before you ask, no, I cannot swim."

Dawn tossed back her shiny hair, and pouted. What use was it having a demon bound to obey your every command if he simply kept sinking in the mud everywhere you went? She rolled up her pants legs and waded into the river. A few strides, and she had the sandal. She started back to the shore - and saw Acathla running towards her, his mouth open, his eyes fixed on something behind her. She turned to see what was bothering him - and beheld a huge gaping maw of serrated teeth, the gape wider than her whole body, blotting out the sky.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter 19 - Blotting Out The Sky**_

Dawn screamed and fell backwards, just as Acathla reached out from the bank as far as he could, and rammed his fist into the crocodile's open mouth. The crocodile's jaws closed on his hand with a vengeful, awful snap, his eyes closed and he dived, dragging Acathla with him. Except that Acathla did not come. His feet had already sunk many inches deep in the soft mud of the river bank, and he stood rooted to the spot, crocodile hanging from his wrist. With a great roar, he smashed his free left hand down on the crocodile's skull, stunning it, and then whipped the whole animal ashore with his arm still imprisoned in its jaws.

Dawn lay panting on the river bank, smothered in black mud. She lifted her head, saw the enormous crocodile lying on its back, jaws still clenched around Acathla's hand, and moaned. When nothing happened she raised her head again. Acathla was crawling up the crocodile's body, inch by inch, dragging his feet out of the imprisoning mud. Finally, with a great squelch, he was free. He rolled over beside her on the mud.

"I see you have your sandal, princess."

Dawn looked down at her filthy mud-caked hands. Sure enough, clasped convulsively in each fist were her two golden sandals.

"Good," she said vaguely. She staggered to her feet, strung the sandals together by their straps, and hung them around her neck. She looked down at Acathla, who still lay on the bank, arm disappearing into the unconscious crocodile's mouth. "Are you planning to wear that crocodile for a bracelet?"

Acathla drew a deep breath. "I was hoping that perhaps my princess would have some idea for releasing me," he said pointedly, "since I am her loyal servant." He shut his eyes briefly. "The creature appears to have me in a death grip, worshipful one. And if I stand up on this surface, I will undoubtedly start sinking again."

Dawn eyed him doubtfully. "Well, I guess you could belly crawl back to dry ground, dragging the crocodile. And then maybe we could use a crowbar or something." She looked around. "Pity Buffybot isn't here. She'd get it off."

Acathla raised long suffering eyes to the sky. He had served some crueller mistresses in his long past, but never such a clueless one. He belly crawled, as suggested, to higher ground, ploughing a huge demon sized furrow in the mud as he did so, with a second, more wiggling furrow marking the progress of the enormous crocodile. Then he had dragged himself to his feet, using a nearby tree trunk, and proceeded to batter the crocodile against the tree, in a vain attempt to dislodge it. Dawn hovered around making unhelpful suggestions, emitting 'eew' sounds as the crocodile's skull squelched against the tree, and generally driving him spare.

Giles, Tempestra and Arturo stood in a circle, hands clasped. He looked as his companions as they spoke in unison the words of an ancient and powerful summoning spell. Tempestra still glowed from within with a terrible red light, and steam roiled off her shoulders, but her hands were cool enough to hold, and her breath, which he could just feel on his cheek, was hot but not scorching. Arturo glowed also, but in silver sparkles, as mage light flickered about him, and earthed itself in his wand. Giles wondered for a moment how he would look to an outsider. Grubby, probably, he thought ruefully, and in serious need of some cleaning solution for my glasses. He pulled his attention back to the circle again as the recitation came to an end, and Tempestra and Arturo looked up and smiled.

"Got her!" cried Arturo triumphantly. "She is being dragged through the sky towards us at this very minute, will she or not."

"Well then," said Tempestra, "let us go and meet her." And they set off down the path, hand in hand, Giles trailing behind as an awkward third.

The tow truck was eating up the miles, bouncing along the bumps and potholes of the track at an incredible teeth loosening speed. Willow, Tara, and Anya were crushed together in the passenger seat, with Buffybot still clinging firmly on to the cab roof, acting as lookout. Tara clung on grimly to Willow, who sat in her lap, hands curved around her seeking spell. Anya had wedged her spear under the dashboard, and was holding it in a two-handed death grip.

"We're getting closer!" cried Willow. Spike bared his teeth, and accelerated.

"Wait, she's .... what is she doing? Dammit! She's turned round. She's going back the way she came." Willow made a sweeping gesture. "Turn round! Turn round! She's going thataway!" She pointed directly behind her.

The tow truck careened into a 'U' turn, throwing up a spray of mud and leaves, and roared down the track, back the way it had come.

Acathla stopped beating the crocodile against the tree trunk. He was immensely strong, and almost inexhaustible, but the treatment was clearly having little effect. And anyway, he was feeling more than a little ridiculous.

"Eeeeeeeeeeee!!" There was a terrible screech behind him. He groaned, and pressed his forehead against the tree trunk; he wished Dawn would stop doing that, it went right through him. He turned to see what it was this time - and found himself face to face with a descending harpy, claws outstretched. The harpy's massive cruel talons flexed, releasing the little dog dangling there, and pointed straight for Acathla's eyes. Xander-dog tumbled headlong into the river, and as Dawn ran over and grabbed for him in vain, he was swept out into the current and away.

Acathla's jaws widened in a savage grin. At last! Something he could hit. He swung the crocodile around, in a great 30 foot long arc, and batted the harpy out of the sky with an ugly sounding 'thwack'. The force of the swing finally released the crocodile's jaws from his wrist, and crocodile and harpy flew through the sky in a hail of feathers, into the jungle, from where there was a thud, and a muffled scream.

Xander-dog swept down the river, doggy paddling frantically. After the terror of being caught up in the harpy's claws, and the bowel-loosening conviction that he was about to be eaten, the river should have come as a pleasant change. But the water was turbulent and fast, and he hadn't forgotten the crocodiles. He paddled madly for shore, and after a timeless period of swimming, and sinking, and spitting out river water, he finally spied a little beach ahead of him where the bank had crumbled away into the water. He dragged himself ashore, and collapsed exhausted in the mud. Safe at last. Then he raised his shaggy little head, and his ears pricked forward. What was that noise? The ground began to shake under him, and in the distance crashing trees fell with a sound like pistol shots. He groaned, and staggered to his paws. He'd heard that sound before.

Giles scrambled to his feet, trying to work out what had happened. Had he really been hit by a giant flying crocodile? Or was that memory just a side effect of what he expertly diagnosed as another concussion? No, there it was, lying on its back, giant pale belly upward, legs waving in the air. Speaking of legs ... he gasped. Two large womanly feet were sticking out from under the crocodile, toes pointing upwards, and glowing faintly red. Tempestra! He ran across to the prone creature, and tried to roll it away. The crocodile's dead weight did not even stir. He banged on it with his fists in frustration.

The truck sped along the jungle track. Spike was at the wheel, eyes agleam. The truck's headlights threw two great beams of light into the inky blackness below the forest canopy, casting crazy shadows in every direction, and terrifying roosting birds and bats, which scattered in every direction. Willow's spell light gleamed in the palm of her hand, and she occasionally muttered a direction to Spike, pointing a little this way, or that.

Xander-dog charged through the forest, eyes bulging and tongue lolling. The dinosaur crashed along behind him. He threw an terrified glance behind him. He couldn't keep this up much longer. His lungs were bursting, and his paws were bloody and sore. He raced out on to the forest track - into the path of the oncoming tow truck. He yelped, and darted to one side, as the driver cursed, and wrenched the steering wheel to one side. The truck veered past him, missing by inches, and a small tanned arm reached out, and plucked him up by his collar and tossed him in through the open window of the cab. He landed on Willow and Tara in the passenger seat of the truck, claws scrabbling desperately for purchase.

"Now that's driving!" It was Spike, sitting at the wheel, accelerator still floored, and a pleased expression on his face. "I don't think the our librarian boy racer could have done than that, somehow." He tapped his own chest. "Reflexes like lightning, I've got." He vroomed around another corner at speed, making the truck tilt.

"Hi Xander!" Willow and Tara petted him, and he wiggled.

"Hi Xander!" It was Buffybot, grinning at him upside down from the roof of the cab.

"Thank you, thank you," yelped Xander-dog. He turned to Spike, "And _you _didn't run me over! Thank you!" He got up on his hind paws, and placed his front feet on Spike's chest, and proceeded to lick him, thoroughly.

"Aargh!" cried Spike, and the truck spun wildly to one side, throwing everyone violently about.

A hand reached out, and grabbed Xander-dog by the collar, and jerked him back.

"Oh God," moaned Spike, "now I've been slobbered on by Xander Harris!"

"Well don't kid yourself it will happen again, dead boy!" It was Anya glaring at him, with Xander-dog now snuggled in her lap. "Xander is my boyfriend, so keep your evil undead hands off him."

"I never touched him!" yelled Spike, infuriated. "He latched on to me with those scrabbly little paws of his, and stuck his tongue up my bloody nose!" He wiped his face ineffectually and scowled at Anya. "I've got dog slobber everywhere."

"Spike! Look out!" It was Buffybot, on the roof.

Spike looked up. "Oh bloody hell!" he cried. And then the truck ploughed into the jungle, struck a huge fallen tree concealed in a mass of lianas in a shattering percussion of rending metal and breaking glass, then crashed to a halt, engine steaming.

The dinosaur's head turned, attracted by the noise, and he ponderously moved himself in a new direction, sweeping several trees away with his tail as he did so, heading for the site of the crash.

_End chapter_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter 20 - Crash**_

"Allow me."

Giles looked up from his kneeling position beside Tempestra's buried body, into the stony face of Acathla. For the first time ever, he was glad to see him.

"Quickly," he cried, "before she suffocates."

Acathla grabbed the crocodile's tail and flipped it expertly off Tempestra, as Giles looked on anxiously. An immediate and mysterious smell of roasting meat blew over them both, and Acathla drew a deep appreciative breath. Tempestra lay on her back, still unconscious, steaming gently in the mud. Giles reached out a tender hand to touch her forehead, and then drew it back sharply. "Ow!"

"She'll need a cold bucket of water when she wakes up." It was Arturo, who had pulled himself rather shakily out of a large crushed rhodedendron bush, and now leant over his fallen spouse. "She has to be paying attention to keep her heat energy under control. Which makes certain activities very interesting, and fraught with danger." He smirked a little. "Luckily, I thought to buy us a waterbed. Though even that brought a danger of scalding." He patted Giles' back. "And don't look so worried, Giles old man; she's an immortal Goddess, you know. It will take more than a giant flying crocodile to keep her down." He gazed down at the crocodile's corpse, which lay with its belly uppermost, now branded with the shape of a large hot goddess. "Interesting," he murmured. "I've got a pretty good protection spell in place, but I never thought to make it cover aerial bombardment by a giant crocodile." He got up, wiped a small trickle of blood from his face, and set off for the river bank.

Steam rose around them, and the truck's horn blared. BEEEEEEEEP!

Willow let out a long sigh. As the truck had hit the tree she'd cast a quick shielding spell, which had extended around herself, Tara, Anya and Xander-dog. They were all a little shaken, but unscratched.

Sadly, though, the spell hadn't reached far enough to cover Spike. He was in game face, his head resting on the centre of steering wheel, forehead pressed against the horn. With an annoyed 'tchah!' Anya grabbed a handful of bleach blond locks and dragged Spike's head backwards. The horn cut off, and Spike groaned.

"Careless idiot!" Anya said, her tone highly aggrieved. "Clearly _I_ should have driven."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, because that would have been so much safer." She put on an exaggerated Anya voice, "This pedal makes the car go fast."

Anya bared her teeth, terrifyingly white and sharp among all the mud and woad on her face.

"Nice spell, sweetheart," said Tara hurriedly, taking Willow's arm. "You saved all of us, including Anya and Xander." She patted Xander-dog, sneaking a quick look at Anya to be sure her words had hit home. Willow grinned at her.

Anya frowned. "I would have shielded my darling Xander with my body, if need be." she gazed down into Xander-dog's little furry face, and he licked her chin. Anya's arm tightened around him. "And if the idiotic vampire had kept his eyes on the road, none of this need have happened."

"You were distracting me. You and that flea-ridden ugly mutt." Spike spoke thickly, his eyes still closed. "And I think I've cracked a fang," he added, his tone aggrieved. "That's going to hurt like buggery every time I change face, that is. But otherwise I'm all right, thanks everyone very much for asking."

"Oh!" cried Tara suddenly, "but what about Buffybot?" She scrambled her upper half out of the truck window and gazed upwards. She gasped - for the roof of the truck was bare. Buffybot had gone.

"Giles! Are you okay?" Dawn had appeared behind Acathla, rather out of breath. She grabbed him in a bear hug, crushing her golden sandals between them, and he staggered a little and stepped back, considerably muddier than he had been before.

"I'm remarkably well," he said, "considering I just got knocked cold by about 500lbs of crocodile. Which landed on poor Tempestra." He pointed at the prone body of the incarnated goddess, and the upturned corpse of the crocodile. Acathla had settled beside the scaly offering, and was ripping off a length of half cooked meat, and stuffing it into his mouth. The effect was not pretty.

Dawn's hand went to her mouth. "Oh man!"

"Is _that _what hit me?" Tempestra struggled up into a sitting position, and stared at the huge body on the bank. "Poor thing," she added vaguely.

"Tempestra, you're all right! Thank goodness." Giles hurried to her side, just as Arturo returned, with bucket of water in hand. They both sank to their knees beside her.

She smiled at them both. "How sweet for you both to be worried about me, my darling boys. And thank you, dear." She patted Arturo's hand, and then took the bucket, and plunged her head into it, and out again.

There was a huge crashing and ripping noise in the distance, and she frowned. "More trees gone." She got to her feet in a huge cloud of steam. "As soon as we've found Podarge, we must deal with that tiresome dinosaur. "But first," she looked around her, "who's been throwing crocodiles at us?"

"That would have been me." A very faint smile touched Acathla's blood stained lips as he gazed at the battered duo before him. "The crocodile and I had engaged in a fight to the death, when we were attacked by the harpy beast. I struck her with the creature as I battled to protect the Golden Sandaled One." He pointed at Dawn. "However, I humbly apologise for striking you in the process, oh Goddess."

Tempestra laughed and waved an airy hand. "Oh, think nothing of it," she said cheerfully. "These things happen." She looked around, "Dare I hope that you hit Podarge as well as us?"

"You bet - there were feathers everywhere!" said Dawn, enthused. "And she screeched like a steam train."

There was a terrible screech from the canopy above them.

"Just like that," added Dawn.

A battered, bloody and furious harpy descended out of the tree, fired a spray of white gunk at Tempestra and Giles, dug her claws into Arturo's head and shoulder, and took off again, dragging him upward with her.

"No!" cried Tempestra, trying to wipe ammonia from her eyes, her hair sizzling spontaneously, as Arturo was hoisted aloft.

"Don't worry Tempestra!" cried a familiar voice from the darkness. "I'll save him."

The truck's engine coughed, and then died. Spike cursed, and turned the keys again in the ignition. This time the engine didn't even try to turn over.

"Useless sodding piece of piece of Japanese shit!" shouted Spike, banging the steering wheel.

Anya rolled her eyes. "You drove it into a tree, Spike. The chances of it working after that are very small." She stood beside the truck, filing her nails with her spear point. Tara, Willow and Xander-dog had fanned out to try and track down the mangled body of the Buffybot, while Spike fixed the truck, and she stood guard. A sensible arrangement, except that the truck fixing did not seem to be going well. "I suppose you might have had better luck if you'd been driving a tank," she added casually, "if you can call it driving."

Spike cast her an evil look, got out of the cab, and threw up the battered hood of the truck with unnecessary violence. There was a screech of tangled metal, and it came away in his hands. Anya tutted, and with a curse he flung it into the jungle beyond.

"Look out, guys!"

Anya's head whipped around, to see Tara, Willow and Xander-dog charging along the path towards her. There was terrible crashing and ripping sound behind them, and the horizon of green treetops abruptly vanished as a great swathe of forest was ripped up and cast aside. A huge reptilian head appeared, and Anya gripped her spear. "Is this truck ever going to start again?" she snapped at Spike.

He threw a harried look at the approaching monster, and then jumped into the cab again, and turned over the motor, as everyone piled into the passenger seat. The motor whirred uselessly. "Bugger, bugger, bugger!"

………

Buffybot ran forward into the clearing, axe raised, and flung it with great force. It swished through the air, tumbling head over handle, and struck the harpy's right leg, just above Arturo's head. The leg sheared off, and with a second terrible scream the harpy released Arturo from the claws of her remaining foot, and flapped higher into the sky, blood spraying.

Arturo plummeted to earth, as Buffybot raced forward to catch him. He landed in her arms, driving her backwards and down, and striking the ground with an ugly thump. The axe fell in a wider arc and buried itself upside down, quivering, in a tree trunk above them. A dozen monkeys erupted from the tree, hooting with alarm and scattering leaves and twigs in every direction.

"Ooh! Monkeys," cried Buffybot from her place on the forest floor, pinioned under Arturo.

Tempestra wiped the last of the sticky poisonous gunk from her eyes, and struggled to her feet, cursing. She looked up at the sky, where the wounded harpy was still struggling to make an erratic course through the air, uttered a curt word, and beckoned. The harpy tumbled backwards, dragged on an invisible tether, and crash landed in the branches of the tree vacated by the monkeys.

"Whee!" cried Buffybot, excited, "you've got her!" She wriggled her way out from under the dark star-sprinkled robe that was pooled around Arturo, and scrambled to her feet, staring up into the tree where the harpy thrashed and cursed. She looked down at Arturo, who lay on the ground, claws from the harpy's severed foot still fastened in his scalp, blood trickling from his head, his ankle folded awkwardly under him and his face terribly, terribly pale.

"And Mr Bombero is absolutely fine," she said proudly. "I saved him."

Giles was on his hands and knees, cursing, and wiping his eyes, but he managed to stagger to his feet and came to look at the recumbent wizard. "Indeed. Very well done, Buffybot." He patted her on the shoulder, and looked down at Arturo. After a moment a faint smile tugged at his lips. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, and began to polish his glasses, grimacing at the gunk on them. "I do hope this isn't what I think it is," he said absently, looking at the white smears.

"_Are_ you all right, darling?" Tempestra had come forward and was tenderly untangling the Harpy's claws from Arturo's hair. She gazed at the severed foot now in her hand, and sniffed contemptuously. "I see Podarge hasn't cleaned her talons in months, if not years, let alone applied nail polish. She's completely let herself go, without me to keep her in line. We'll have to bathe your scratches in antiseptic lotion, Arturo darling, or you'll be bound to get some awful infection." She flicked the severed limb contemptuously aside, provoking another furious round of thrashing and cursing from the tree above.

The roar of crashing trees and splitting wood grew louder, and a frown crossed Tempestra's face. "Can someone please put a stop that noise; poor dear Arturo is bound to have a headache."

……………

Anya looked on as the approaching dinosaur filled the view from the windscreen. The jungle was thick all around them, the river lay behind. The prospect of escape was slim. Willow and Tara were muttering feverishly, trying to come up with a spell that could stop a rampaging 20 tonne monster, Spike was flooding the carburettor, and Xander-dog was cowering on the truck floor, his furry body pressed against her shin. She prepared to go down fighting.

A large figure stepped in front of the truck facing the onrushing dinosaur. His massive rocky back and enormous bull neck were outlined in the twilight, as he waved a great 30 foot long knobbly club, vaguely crocodile shaped, in front of him.

"Come and get it, fat boy!" cried Acathla. He hadn't had so much fun in ages.

Arturo raised himself into a sitting position, shaking. "That axe missed me by a hairsbreadth!" he said, feeling his head with trembling fingers.

"Oh, it was an inch at least," said Tempestra comfortingly. "And it was a simply splendid throw," she added, smiling at Buffybot - who beamed back at her and puffed out her little chest. "Not one of my little Girl Scouts could have done better."

"And I must have fallen a hundred feet!" Arturo shuddered. "I think my ankle's broken."

Tempestra felt the ankle with an expert hand, and he yelped. "No more than twenty feet, and it's just a sprain," she said, "nothing a cold compress and bit of rest won't cure."

"Never mind your miserable ankle, wizard!" screeched the harpy furiously. Everyone looked up at her as she dangled upside down from the branch above them, thrashing in an invisible net. "That psychopathic little bitch cut off my leg!" She spat at Buffybot, who skipped neatly to one side. "Do you have any idea how long it will take me to grow that back? But it _will_ grow back you know! Oh yes! And when I've got all ten claws again, I'm going to use them to rip your shiny little head from your scrawny chicken-boned body! Just you wait."

"You're not going to get the chance," said Tempestra, an ominous note entering her usually jolly tone. And she walked over to the tree, and pulled mightily upon Buffybot's axe. It detached itself from the bark with a terrific creaking sound. Tempestra staggered as the force of her pull almost overbalanced her, then stepped forward again and began to swing the axe.

"I defy you!" screeched Podarge, and she spat again, straight down at Tempestra, spattering her on the hand. "Ha!" she cried, "Damn you, Tempestra! Damn you and your Girl Scout Troop! Damn you and your so-called Achievement Badges, which you doled out to your favourites and denied to those who truly deserved them! You should have died in that piece of serpentine as it dissolved in the crocodile's stomach juices, but you never did play fair, did you? Damn you forever!"

"The achievement badges were given out to conscientious demons who completed the appropriate course!" cried Tempestra, enraged. "_You _could never be bothered, you lazy brute! And fouling your own nest _does_ disqualify you from the housekeeping badge, whether you're a harpy or not."

"That was cultural discrimination!" cried Podarge, incensed.

"No, it was basic hygiene." Tempestra began to steam once more, "And then you attacked me with magic, and tried to murder my darling Arturo, and even abducted this sweet little Bot, who never did you any harm in the world. All in all, you've gone too far." She swung the axe back again, and then, muttering to herself, "Enough trees have been damaged already, must remember my Forest Ecology Badge," she tucked the axe into her belt, and began to scale the trunk, the tree shaking ominously under her weight.

"What are you doing with that axe?" cried Podarge above her, suddenly nervous. "You wouldn't ... would you? Tempestra! Remember the Girl Scout Law!"


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 - The Girl Scout Law**

"Well, that was certainly thorough."

Giles, Arturo, and Dawn stood together, looking at the dismembered pieces of Podarge that lay scattered around the base of the tree. Tempestra had proved her axe wielding skills in a most decisive fashion. There appeared to be enough pieces on the ground to make ten harpies, not just one.

Arturo nodded, grimly. "Let's see her try and re-grow a head," he said, poking a harpy part with his foot. He felt his lacerated scalp tenderly, "Meanwhile, I really must work on that repulsion spell of mine. Two overhead attacks, and I took two hits. Quite useless." He took his wand from the capacious pocket in his robe, and clicked his fingers. His wand grew to the size and thickness of a walking stick, and, leaning heavily upon it, he limped off after Tempestra and Buffybot, who were already striding off on the trail of the dinosaur, weapons in hand.

Giles turned to Dawn. "Shall we go and see if your pet demon can defeat an 8 tonne dinosaur in a foul temper?"

Dawn blinked down at the harpy parts, looking a little nauseated. "Hell, I've already been menaced by an ancient demon, a giant crocodile, and a huge flying naked scaly woman today. Add in Godzilla and I've nearly got enough for a basketball team." She reached down, slipped on her sandals, and took Giles's arm. "Let's go join the party."

As they left, a monkey appeared dangling upside down from the tree, pointed at the dismembered harpy, and gave a happy "ook!" Soon the whole tree was alive with simians, whistling and jostling each other, and the bravest came to earth, and poked the nearest bit of harpy with her foot. When nothing happened she puffed up her narrow furry chest and sounded a triumphant whistle. In a moment she was joined by her friends, all poking and sniffing at the remains, and in a short while the forest floor was alive with monkeys, quite literally dancing on their fallen enemy.

The giganotosaurus squinted sideways, just managing to focus on Acathla standing in front him. He roared, and bent forward to swipe at the demon with a mighty claw. Acathla stepped inside the blow and struck the dinosaur a huge ringing blow across the side of the head with the dead crocodile. The giganotosaurus shook his head irritably and glared at Acathla. Then he ripped the crocodile from the demon's hand and crammed half of it into his huge mouth.

"Uh oh," Acathla said, backing away towards the truck.

The giganotosaurus hunkered down, and chewed. Finally, three days after he had woken in this revolting place, and started an increasingly urgent search for something resembling a sauropod, or even a miserable tiny tenontosaurus to rip apart and consume, he had found a decent-sized meal. True, it was merely a crocodile, barely 30 feet long if that, but he was hungry, and it was better than nothing. He crunched through armoured scales and bone, keeping his red and angry eye on the annoying ant-like creatures in front of him. They'd better not try and steal his crocodile!

Buffybot ran on through the dark jungle, her axe in hand. Tempestra had handed it back, after politely wiping the worst of the harpy blood from its blade, and she was hoping to find some way to make it count against the dinosaur. Her excellent hearing had already revealed where her companions had got to. Over the loud crunching and gulping noises made by the giant sauropod, she could hear the marginally quieter sound of assorted witches and demons arguing, violently. She rushed up to the truck.

"Hi guys!" she cried, patting Xander-dog's shaggy little head. "I just saved Mr Bombero from the harpy, and Mrs Bombero cut her up with my axe. Swish! Thunk!" She swung the axe illustratively, giggling. Xander -dog, who had jumped up to put his paws on her knee, flinched backwards.

"Are they here?" Tara peered anxiously into the darkness, "because we've got a plan to deal with the dinosaur ..."

"Of course, it's a bloody stupid plan," said Spike, "but that's only to be expected."

Tara flashed him an annoyed look, and continued, "... but we need their help, and the piece of serpentine."

"Ooh!" cried Buffybot, her eyes round, "a plan! You're so smart, Tara - and Willow," she added as an afterthought. She swung around. "Here they come now." Her eyes gleamed. "Ooh! Are we going to hit the dinosaur with the crocodile?"

"Already been done," said Spike laconically, "by old Stonewall there." He gestured over at Acathla, who had retreated back to the truck as the dinosaur chewed and swallowed, and was now scratching his ear, a frustrated expression on his face. "And I don't think he had a Plan B," Spike added.

Anya sniffed disdainfully. "As I said before, what we need here is dynamite."

"And as I said before, plastic explosives are better." It was Giles. He turned to Tara and Willow, "But since we don't have any ..."

"...it will have to be a spell," finished Willow, looking rather pleased about it.

Giles rolled his eyes, and prepared to speak, but Willow and Tara had already rushed past him, and were in a huddle with Tempestra and Arturo. He drew an annoyed breath, and then headed over to join the party.

"Whoa!" said Dawn, staring at the giant dinosaur. That's even bigger than a T-Rex. What _is_ it?"

Anya shrugged, looking bored. "According to Giles, it's a gigantosaurus. A very big one."

"Actually," said Buffybot kindly, "it's a giga_not_osaurus. But I'm sure a lot of people make that mistake."

Anya scowled down at her. "You have an awful lot of facts in that yellow tin can head of yours, don't you?"

"I do!" said Buffybot delighted. "I have a whole Encyclopedia in there, and several DIY manuals, as well as my Book of Wilderness Tips, which has been really amazingly useful!"

"Way to go, Buffybot," said Dawn absently, staring at the giant sauropod as he crunched down on his long-delayed dinner. "Eeew!" she said, pointing, "now that really is gross." For the dinosaur had reached the crocodile's head, and crunched down. As he did so, brains and eyeballs sprayed in every direction.

From his place by the truck, Acathla gave a disdainful sniff even as his stomach rumbled. The dinosaur's dining habits were distressingly wasteful. And he was hungry. He scowled. This planet, and his servitude to the Golden Sandalled Key, was sheer misery. He glanced at the huddle of wizards, witches and scholars. Pathetic - give him an insane world-wrecking psycopath anytime. At least they got things done.

Giles took a deep breath. "Now, is everybody ready?"

There was a chorus of assent, and then Acathla, Anya and Spike peeled off to the left, and began to creep through the undergrowth towards the oblivious dinosaur. In the trees above them, monkeys slipped through the canopy, brachiating silently from branch to branch with effortless athleticism, white patched faces intent. Tara, Willow, Tempestra and Arturo gathered round in a circle, and began to chant.

Giles looked at his watch, then made an abrupt chopping motion with his hand. "Now!" he cried, "Run, Buffybot!"

A second later the jungle to the other side of the dinosaur erupted in a cacophony of unearthly noise. Hoots, screams, and whistles from the monkeys, high-pitched hysterical barking from Xander-dog, terrifying Swedish yodelling from Anya, and what sounded like obscene football chants from Spike, all to the tune of a terrific booming rhythm as Acathla beat a hollow tree trunk with a rock. The head of the giganotosaurus swung round, and he roared, spraying bits of flesh and bone in every direction, and took a threatening step in the direction of the furore.

Buffybot ran like the wind, past the truck, and over all the broken forest litter, to where the back half of the crocodile's corpse lay in the huge shadow of the giganotosaurus. His enormous armoured head was still turned away from her, and she threw the piece of serpentine deep into the crocodile's exposed rib cavity and sprinted on past, out around in a huge arc, and then back to the party by the river, slashing at lianas with her axe as she went.

"Whee!" she cried, as the truck came into sight again. "That was _fun_!" Everyone stood around the truck in various attitudes, watching the dinosaur. "Has he eaten it?" she asked.

Tara bit her lip, "Just now. And I _think_ it's working."

They peered through the branches at the oblivious dinosaur, as he swallowed the very last of the crocodile's tail. There was a shimmer starting to radiate about him, and as they watched it escalated into a whirling, and swirling movement in the air. The giganotosaurus's outline was beginning to blur. He roared suddenly, a huge eerie sound in the darkness, and looked down at his belly. A puzzled expression came into his red angry eyes, and then he abruptly folded in on himself, and folded again, and shrunk sideways and longways, until, with an audible pop, he was gone entirely. Leaves and litter swirled in the breeze for a moment, and then they settled to the ground with a gentle soughing noise, and all was quiet.

The gang, accompanied by the monkeys, crept out from their refuge by the truck, and stared at the place where the dinosaur had been. On the ground in front of them, in the centre of a vortex of leaves, was a piece of green serpentine, rocking from side to side.

"Anything Podarge can do, you can do better, dear" said Arturo, picking up the serpentine with a triumphant expression on his face, and presenting it to his wife. The monkeys all oohed enthusiastically as the couple embraced, and clustered around them.

Giles coughed. "A joint effort, of course," he said pointedly. "And Tara's idea."

"Absolutely," said Tempestra. "It was a fine example of a co-operative effort, and a credit to you all - to us all." She waved a hand to encompass not only the Scoobies, but also the monkeys, and Acathla, Spike and Anya, who were sitting rather sulkily at the other side of the clearing in a little demonic clump, regretting the lost opportunity to beat the dinosaur to death, or blow it up.

"And now," said Arturo, "we just have to solve the little matter of the temporal rifts, and all will be well."

……………….

"Tara had another idea about that," said Willow, looking proudly at her brainy girlfriend.

"Oh, well done, Tara!" said Tempestra encouragingly.

Tara managed to look pleased and embarrassed, all at once. "Well, it was me, and Willow, and Giles," she said shyly.

Only a few moments had passed, but it that short time the night had grown blacker, and much of the background sound of the forest had quietened.

work

Tempestra sat by the fire, looking a little wistful.

"I do wonder if I couldn't have managed Podgy better," she said. "She was really quite gratifyingly enthusiastic when I founded the Demon Girl Scouts. But she _would _foul her nest, and there was that incident where she ate the Scout Troop's pony. She made a very impressive sushi out of it, admittedly - but snatching up the other girl scouts' portions, and then defecating on their plates made even the cookery badge impossible to award."

I'm afraid it made her bitter."

"And then," said Giles pointedly, "there is the small matter of the five favours that we owed you. All paid in full, I'm sure you agree."

Arturo bridled, "I don't agree at all. Plenty left. We laid the binding spell on the dinosaur with Tempestra's , and "

"I saved you from the harpy!" said Buffybot indignantly. "With my axe." She swished it.

"And Buffybot saved Tempestra from the crocodile's stomach."

"And Acathla saved Tempestra from suffocating under that very same crocodile."

"Only after he'd hit her with it to start with."

"And you could never have laid the binding spell on the dinosaur if he hadn't been distracted by Anya and Spike's very convincing demon attack."

Arturo sniffed. "An awful lot of these favours seem to be related to one crocodile."

Surely saving Tempestra counts?

Tempestra raised a goddess-like eyebrow.

Arturo coughed, "Yes, yes of course. For I love her above myself. Naturally." He rallied, "But still, that leaves two favours unredeemed."

The temporal shifts!

The dinosaur!

"Besides," added Giles, "if you don't consider the five favours repaid, then Buffybot has kindly offered to stay around here, and wait for another chance to save your life."

"No!" cried Arturo shuddering, "I barely survived the last time she decided to save me."

Giles grinned and a winked at Tara over Arturo's bowed head. He'd known that would do the trick.

"Her heart is in the right place."

"Yes!" agreed Buffybot happily. "It's in my bottom!"

Tara and Tempestra had been whispering by the fire for a good part of the evening. The monkeys' curiosity had proved too much for them. They had gathered around the fire, watching Tempestra draw mysterious symbol after mysterious symbol in the sand, as Tara and Willow nodded, and pointed, and made suggestions. As they had drawn closer, Tempestra had insensibly raised her voice, allowing them to overhear the arcane discussion of troops, sashes, and badges

I have something for you, Buffybot. honorary membership of Tempestra's girl scout troop, and a sash with the a whole collection of achievement badges

Spike nodded to Dawn. "Hey, Bit."

She nodded back, and gestured at the group of conspirators. "That looks kinda worrying, huh?"

Spike shrugged, and lit himself a cigarette.

"I just wondered," said Tra delicately, "what other demons joined your Girl Scout Troop?" Because

Last week we had a rain of fish on Monday, a new mountain appeared on Tuesday, a coral reef splashed in on Wednesday, and then that accursed dinosaur appeared on Thursday.

**Girl Scout Promise and Law**

The Girl Scout Promise and Law are shared by every member of Girl Scouting. The Girl Scout Promise is the way Girl Scouts agree to act every day toward one another and other people, and the Law outlines a way to act towards one another and the world.

The Girl Scout Promise

On my honor, I will try:  
To serve God and my country,  
To help people at all times,  
And to live by the Girl Scout Law.

The Girl Scout Law

I will do my best to be  
honest and fair,  
friendly and helpful,  
considerate and caring,  
courageous and strong, and  
responsible for what I say and do,  
and to  
respect myself and others,  
respect authority,  
use resources wisely,  
make the world a better place, and  
be a sister to every Girl Scout.

The word "God" can be interpreted in a number of ways, depending on one's spiritual beliefs. When reciting the Girl Scout Promise, it is okay to replace the word "God" with whatever word your spiritual beliefs dictate.


	22. Chapter 22

**_Chapter 22 - All Will Be Well_**

Morning had broken in the jungle. A cacophony of insects were calling with a million different voices, scraping and whirring and chafing their messages into the water-sodden air. Giles sighed; he had a lot on his mind, and he had risen early from his bed and slipped away to take a refreshing dip in the river. But the thought of crocodiles had meant that he hadn't liked to linger in the water, and he had no sooner stepped out of the water than he was soaked a second time in sweat, and driven under the trees by the relentless sun. He set off back to the clearing, glasses slipping on his nose, and shoulders hunched, slapping mosquitos away from his face, and wondering if anyone else was up yet. 

As soon as it was light, Willow and Tara had slipped away from the clearing, and gone back to the crashed truck, where they'd wrestled a hub cap from one of the wheels. Then they'd made their way down to the river bank, and buffed it up to a glossy brightness.

"Are you sure it's in the river?" asked Willow, staring at the swiftly flowing brown water.

Tara rubbed her chin. "No, but it seems likely. We both saw all that stuff upstream, and the big rifts seem to have been focussed here too." She stood looking at the odd collection of items in her hands. Some herbs and roots (which looked familiar, but whose taxonomy neither of them were entirely sure of) her super-cool reflective sunglasses, Willow's boa, and a harpy's feather, all tied awkwardly together with hairy jungle string. She leaned down and placed the bundle on the metal hub cap.

"What are you guys up to?"

Willow and Tara jumped, and then turned. Dawn stood behind them, strappy spike heeled sandals hung around her neck as usual, and Acathla looming in the background as her silent guardian. Her expression was accusing. "You always leave me out. Well, except when Willow wants to do blood magic, of course." 

Willow gave a little embarrassed cough. "Oh, hi, Dawnie. We're trying to fix the temporal rifts. Before Tempestra sorts it all out with a wave of her hand, and Giles ends up in El Bombero's debt for ever. We think there's a spirit in the river doing stuff, and we're making it an offering of shiny things," she waved the hubcap, "and hoping it's willing to come have a chat." 

She looked Dawn up and down. "Which gives me an idea ..."

Dawn stared back at her with deep suspicion, and fingered the plaster on her elbow. "There will be no more bleeding of the Dawn, look what happened last time!"

"Oh, I don't want your blood," said Willow, advancing towards Dawn, who took an involuntary step backwards, "not this time."

When Giles got back to the clearing he found Tempestra and Buffybot kneeling by a neat campfire. They'd collected a dozen huge birds' eggs for breakfast, and Arturo sat beside them, waiting for his omelette, swollen ankle propped on a knapsack. Anya and Xander-dog sat some distance away, looking feral.

"Hello Rupert. Isn't it a lovely morning!" Tempestra cried. "Buffybot and I were up with the macaws and out foraging." She smiled approvingly at Buffybot, "What a wonderful scout this girl of yours would make! Bags of get up and go."

Buffybot glowed. She'd been having a simply splendid time, quartering the forest with Tempestra and the monkeys and learning lots of important things about the local frogs, plants, spiders (all poisonous) and birds (not poisonous, but quite capable of kicking you into the middle of next week.) She'd picked up a few small dents, and some minor acid burns, but it had all been great fun and very educational. What a pity Giles had been asleep, she thought, he'd have enjoyed it too.

There was a familiar contemptuous sniffing noise. Buffybot turned and looked into the shadows. With the rising of the sun, Spike had retired to a hollow tree trunk covered in vines, deep in the undergrowth. He leaned against the pillow provided by his hostess, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. "Give me England any day," he said bitterly from his refuge. "Nice mild temperatures, cloud cover most of the year, and no bloody cicadas and whatnot screeching away. Plus proper milk in your tea, instead of this coconut stuff." He spat expressively and poured the remainder of the mug on the forest floor, causing Giles to wince. 

But Tempestra was unfazed. "Funnily enough," she said cheerfully, as she deftly fried a dozen eggs in a huge black pan, "This _is_ England, more or less. Well, as it would be if those tectonic plates had moved around a little differently, anyway - and the monkeys hadn't ever got out of Africa." She smiled at her simian audience, who were watching the eggs with a beady expression on their faces, their whiskers twitching. "Arturo and I thought it would be nice. We had our honeymoon in Oxford, you know."

"Don't recognise a thing," said Spike, glaring at the mossy, liana strewn jungle floor. "Though Boadicea over there has gone native all right." He pointed at Anya, who sat, her face re-anointed with woad, wet hair falling in a wild tangle and Xander the hunting dog pressed against her side. She was now absorbed in whittling arrows, having declared her intention of finding some bacon to go with the eggs.

"As far as I can tell we're somewhere close to the junction between Cornmarket Street and Broad Street." Arturo made vague shapes in the air, suggesting Oxford colleges and bookshops.

Giles' lips quirked into a smile, "Very homey. Though I think I prefer our Oxford. You can get a good pint around there." He looked around, "Where have the girls got to?"

Tempestra waved an airy hand. "Oh, they went off to the river to have a bathe, and then to sort out the temporal rifts. We had a very long chat last night, and it gave them some ideas. They said they couldn't tell me about it, because they needed to repay some favours to Arturo, without my help." She glanced at El Bombero, who had stiffened at her news. "I expect they'll be along soon. Girls always take forever in the bathroom, don't they?"

Acathla nodded. "River spirits like shiny things."

"Good!" said Willow, because ..."

"...on the other hand," continued Acathla relentlessly, "they also like drowning mortals, and making fanciful arrangements with their bones on the river bed."

"Gross," said Dawn, edging away from the riverbank.

Acathla bowed, stiffly, "Actually, princess, I knew one spirit in Peru that made an entire reconstruction of Machu Picchu just out of human finger bones - very artistic." He sighed, "although she was also completely insane of course." He looked at Dawn, and spread his enormous stony hands. "If the witches succeed in summoning a river spirit, the outcome is likely to be their death. I suggest you come away from here immediately, Precious One, and leave them to their fate."

"I don't think we'll be killed," said Tara, not sounding all that sure. "You see, while I'm sure our stony guy's the expert in normal circumstances, there's one big difference here." She took a deep breath, and looked at Acathla, "Because I don't suppose any of the river spirits you met in Peru were girl scouts."

"We must go after them at once!" Giles made an agitated turn around the clearing. "whatever is causing those temporal rifts is bound to be extremely dangerous."

"Well, yes, probably," said Tempestra, "but as I said, they wanted to solve it themselves, because of this silly business with you two," she indicated Giles and Arturo, "and the favours."

"Bugger the favours," said Giles explosively. "Arturo can have me by the short hairs for the next millennium for all I care, if it means everyone's safe."

"In your dreams, mate," said Spike, smirking.

Giles ignored him. "Xander!" 

Xander dog looked up, ears cocked. Giles pointed at the ground. "Find those girls. Now!" Xander-dog rose, leaner, scruffier and wolfier looking than he ever had been before. He set his nose to the ground and began to quarter the clearing. And then his stubby little tail shot out straight, his front right paw lifted, and he pointed into the depths of the forest.

"The eggs are done," said Tempestra mildly.

Giles spared her a glance. "Then we'll eat them on the way."

"It might just as well have been my blood."

Dawn looked anguished, as Willow placed her golden high heeled strappy sandals on top of the other offerings in the hub cap, and walked to the river, holding it like a ceremonial dish.

Tara coughed rather self consciously, hands clasped together. "Oh hear me, Friendly Spirit!" she cried. "We thank you for the many gifts you have showered upon us ... and, um, we'd like to return the favor. We make you an offering of, er, the fruits of this forest, and a precious possession from each of us, as a sign of our gratitude. Oh, and also we - well, Tempestra - killed the harpy. I thought you might like to know about that, so that's what the feather's about. Um, and we'd like to talk to you, if that's convenient. Um, in your own time. Whenever you felt like it. Please. The rifts you're making are damaging the space time continuum, which is ... well it's a bit complicated, but basically you're tearing a hole, and if it gets big enough this whole planet might fall into it, and that would be bad. So we'd like to ask you, please, to stop making rifts and pulling things through them. And in return we offer you," she closed her eyes and swallowed, "these, er, really precious personal items."

Willow pushed the hubcap out into the river, where it floated like a little raft. There was a silence, and then she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Bye, bye, boa. I'm never gonna find another boa as feathery as you."

"Bye, bye mirror sunglasses," said Tara, sighing. "I'll never be able to afford another pair."

"Bye, bye, cool strappy gold sandals," said Dawn, a tear in her eye. "You were half a size too small but I bought you anyway, because you were soooo lovely. And I saved you from a crocodile, even though you crushed my toes, and gave me blisters. I'm gonna miss you."

The raft drifted away from them as the river flowed on. Willow and Tara and Dawn stood looking at it, hoping for a sign. Time passed, and the raft grew smaller in the distance until finally it was a disappearing speck, hardly visible even if they strained their eyes.

"Well, it was worth a try," said Willow, after a long while. She took Tara's hand, and patted Dawn on the back. "Can't win them all."

They turned and began to trudge back towards the campsite.

The three would-be spell-casters trudged through the forest beside the river, flanked by their formidable guardian, heads bowed.

There was a rustling and crackling, and a snapping of twigs. They all tensed, looking ahead anxiously, and then Xander-dog bounded across the clearing and launched himself at Willow.

"Xander!" she cried. 

"Harrroooooo!" howled Xander-dog.

A moment later Buffybot appeared from the trees, and ran up to hug first Tara, and then Dawn. Ribs creaked.

"You're all right!" cried Buffybot, "I'm so glad! And Giles was really worried about you." Her face became solemn. "He swore."

Anya appeared next, running lightly through the forest, her spear balanced in her hand, then Giles, sweating and red-faced, and finally Tempestra, carrying Arturo in a fireman's lift.

Willow bit her lip. "We're sorry Giles, but it didn't work. We tried to summon the river spirit, but it seems she's not for summoning."

Giles put his hand on her cheek, and smiled down at her. He looked over at Tara and Dawn. "Oh you sweet, silly lot. Please don't ever scare me like that agai.."

He was interrupted by a massive roaring and rushing sound, as the river behind them swelled, and rolled, and then roiled up into a huge crescent of water, towering impossibly high above them. Everyone took a hasty step back, in case the wave broke and came crashing down on the bank, but instead it trembled, and then solidified. After a moment the brown muddy water began to fall backwards in a tremendous roar, peeling away from a domed, silvery core, which rose up, and up, and up, and up. 

Everybody's head tilted backwards, and further backwards still, as they tried to keep the new monster's head in their sights. The silvery mountain slowly resolved itself into a massive head, followed by an even more massive, vaguely woman-shaped body, standing waist deep in the river and looking at them with eyes as deep as wells.

"Oh boy," said Anya. "this one's even bigger than Godzilla." She turned to Acathla. "Got anything to smack the Lady of the Lake here with?"

"Ah, said Tara faintly, "I didn't realise a river spirit would be so... big."

Willow took her hand. "I guess it's a pretty big river," she said softly.

"Should we run?" asked Dawn, "We could run, that would be smart."

But Tempestra had stepped forward, beaming, "Eulalie!" she cried. "How lovely to see you."

The creature's dark, wet eyes turned to gaze on Tempestra. A massive silvery arm resolved itself from the shining surface, and a hand appeared, the size of a small car, the little finger and thumb clasped together, and the middle three fingers pointing upwards. As everyone stared, fascinated, at the curious sign, a slit that might be a mouth appeared in the shiny smooth surface of the creature's face and she spoke in a voice like the rushing of a thousand streams.

"Dib, dib, dib, oh Troop Leader."

Tempestra held up her hand in turn, curved into the universal sign of the scout movement. "Dob, dob, dob," she said happily, "And I'm absolutely thrilled to see that you've been keeping your Promise."

Eulalie nodded, gravely, and began to move forward. The party on the bank took an involuntary step back, even Acathla. She reached the shore, where she began to waver, and shrink, her surface becoming a more and more intense silver as the water she was made of was compressed and constricted into something approaching solidity. After a timeless moment of inward flow, she stood on the bank, a mere ten feet tall, and shining like the moon.

She nodded to Tempestra. "I _have_ been keeping my promise. I've been doing my best to help other people at all times, and to make the world a better place. And I've been hard at work on my badges, even though you went and disappeared and I couldn't get my homework marked," She blinked reproachfully. "But I did what I could on each of them, and these last few weeks I've been trying for my eclectic collecting merit badge."

"Super," said Tempestra approvingly. "You've been showing plenty of initiative, I see."

Eulalie nodded. "Initiative, yes." She seemed to taste the word. "But these little witches say I was ripping the space time fabric, so I've stopped, because of the Girl Scout Law." She turned massive silvery eyes on Tara, and blinked - very slowly. "And I know what the space time fabric is, by the way, young witch," she said rather pointedly.

Tara gulped. "I'm sure you do."

"Big and slow doesn't equal big and dumb, you know." She reached a hand inside her own silvery surface, and withdrew the hubcap with a huge liquid finger. "And also now I have these cool sunglasses, and the lovely golden sandals, and the skinned bird, and this shiny metal disc, I have nearly enough objects for my badge, I think."

She looked at Tempestra, who nodded firmly. "Quite enough. Those together with a treeful of monkeys, a rain of fish, a mountain, a coral reef, a dinosaur and a demon's toilet certainly qualify you for the eclectic collection badge. Well done! And much nicer than the toe bones you collected before."

Acathla looked at Dawn, an 'I told you so' expression on his face.

"You can have an amusingly concertinaed Jeep Cherokee and a crumpled pickup truck, too, Madam" said Giles. "We'd be honoured to add to your collection."

The Eulalie blinked again, and bowed. "Thank you - cars are good, although they rust underwater." She looked sad for a moment. "Bones are better in a lot of ways."

"But drowning people is not helping them," said Tempestra firmly. 

Eulalie nodded, and then fished one of the roots out of the hubcap and chewed it, her expression thoughtful. She took it out of her mouth, and stared at it, looking disappointed. "I thought this might be liquorice. I like liquorice."

"Ooh!" cried Buffybot, "I like liquorice too!" She bounced. She liked their new friend's attitude, and she was already thinking about making her own eclectic collection, even if she couldn't open temporal rifts, or get a badge for it. Hmmm ... perhaps she could collect amusingly shaped vegetables? Or potato chips in the shape of Abraham Lincoln, and all the other Presidents? She'd read in the paper at the supermarket about someone who had a collection of those, but they hadn't managed to get one of President McKinley yet. Maybe she could go one better.

"I promise to mark all your homework, and award all the badges you've qualified for, and also to fetch you some liquorice, said Tempestra. "After all, it's the least we can do."

Eulalie nodded, her attention still on the contents of the hubcap. She took Tara's sunglasses, balanced them awkwardly on her nose, and draped the boa over her shoulder. Then she stared dubiously at the golden high heeled sandals.

"You can hang them around your neck by the straps," Buffybot said helpfully, "that's how Dawn wears them."

"Thanks a lot, Bottie," muttered Dawn, who had been hoping Eulalie would toss them back.

Eulalie reached up, and arranged the sandals around her neck.

Buffybot smiled approvingly, "you look very cool!"

"Thank you," said Eulalie, rather absently, and then she turned and stepped back into the river, and began to sink, slowly spreading and liquefying back into the river that had made her.

"Dear Eulalie," said Tempestra fondly, "I'm so glad someone has been keeping the faith. Even if it did nearly destroy the world."

They watched the river until the last ripple had gone, then Giles cleared his throat.

"And now that's settled," he said, glancing meaningfully at Arturo, "we really must get home."


	23. Chapter 23

**_Chapter 23 - Getting Home_**

Buffybot skipped down the jungle path, sack of liquorice root in hand. El Bombero had conjured it with a simple spell, that _hadn't_ ripped a hole in anything. She placed the sack carefully in the canoe, and pushed it off from the bank. She waved. "Here it is, Eulalie!" she called out happily, "and Tempestra says you got all eight badges you went for while she was away. Well done!" She waited a moment, but there was no stirring in the rushing water. She shrugged her shoulders, and turned back to rejoin her friends. Eulalie would have heard all right.

"You'll be making her day," said Giles.

"If not her year," added Tara. "and she's only a few months old."

"Are there any more digestives?" asked Spike, who by now was almost terminally bored.

They were sat around the campfire one last time, drinking tea, while El Bombero prepared the spell to take them home. Tara, Willow and Tempestra had been whispering by the fire for the good part of an hour. The monkeys' curiosity had proved too much for them, and they had gathered around, watching Tempestra draw mysterious symbol after mysterious symbol in the sand, as Tara and Willow nodded, and pointed, and made suggestions. As the simians had drawn closer, Tempestra had insensibly raised her voice, allowing them to overhear the arcane discussion of patches, sashes, and badges.

Tempestra looked down at her handiwork, and sighed a wistful sigh. "I do wonder if I couldn't have managed Podgy better," she said. "She was really quite gratifyingly enthusiastic when I founded the Demon Girl Scouts. But she would foul her nest, and there was that incident where she ate the Scout Troop's pony. She made a very impressive sushi out of it, admittedly - but snatching up the other girl scouts' portions, and then defecating on their plates made even the cookery badge impossible to award. I'm afraid it made her bitter."

El Bombero limped into the clearing. "I'm ready," he announced. He looked across at Xander-dog. "and you are my first task." He waved his wand, as Xander-dog trembled and pressed himself against Anya's thigh, and then muttered a few words. There was a whoomp, and a rushing sound, and suddenly there was no longer a small, shaggy, lean looking mongrel to be seen, but instead a slim young man, resting on his hands and knees.

"Whoa!" said Dawn. "That's a bit more of Xander than I expected to see."

Anya stepped in front of Xander, who had rolled into a defensive crouch. "There will be no staring at my boyfriend's penis," she said aggressively. "And that goes for you Spike, as well as Dawn - and anyone else who isn't a lesbian."

Dawn opened her mouth indignantly, and then closed it again. This was a no-win argument.

Spike shifted irritably in his tree trunk. "I do _not_ want to look at Harris's tackle," he said. "It'll just put me off my breakfast, which I am still hoping to get to sometime today." He looked pointedly at El Bombero.

"Indeed, we need not delay further." El Bombero gestured again, and Xander's clothes appeared in a pile in front of him. Xander scrabbled quickly into his pants. "Safer to do those two spells separately," El Bombero said cheerfully. "It wouldn't do for the young man to be wearing his pants on the inside." He turned to Giles, "Now strictly speaking, that transformation spell for the little dog is another favour, but since you owe me so many favours already I may let it pass, Ripper old son."

Giles frowned. "I don't think so, somehow, Arturo old boy. I think, between us, we have paid our debts in full. Willow and Tara sorted out the temporal rifts, and the dinosaur, which is two favours for a start."

"And Buffybot saved Tempestra from the crocodile's stomach," said Tara. "that's three - unless you don't count saving Tempestra as a favour?"

"Ooh, nice one!" whispered Willow, taking her hand.

Tempestra raised a goddess-like eyebrow in El Bombero's direction, and he coughed, "Yes, yes of course. For I love her above myself. Naturally." He rallied, "But still, that leaves at least one favour unredeemed, and anyway the dinosaur was a joint effort."

"Acathla saved Tempestra from suffocating under that crocodile," added Dawn, thinking back rapidly to the events of the last 24 hours.

Arturo sneered, and folded his arms. "Only after he'd hit her with it to start with." Acathla scowled.

Xander growled, and then he managed a hoarse word that sounded like "harffy."

Giles looked at him. "Harffy?" His brow cleared, "Oh yes, the harpy. Buffybot saved you from the harpy, Arturo."

Anya nodded, "With her axe." She pointed with her spear at the article in question, which was laid neatly in the clearing awaiting its owner's return. "That's four."

"Besides," added Giles, "if you don't consider the four favours repaid, then Buffybot has kindly offered to stay around here, while she waits for another chance to save your life."

"No!" cried Arturo shuddering, "I barely survived the last time she decided to save me."

Giles grinned and winked at Tara and Willow over Arturo's bowed head. He'd known that would do the trick. "That's agreed then," he said suavely. "We're even all round."

"Hang on, Ripper," said Spike, aggrieved. "El Sorcero here _kidnapped_ us! Well, I don't care about him kidnapping you, actually. But he kidnapped me. I reckon he still owes me a favour."

"Which he's going to repay," said Giles, speaking slowly and clearly, "by sending you home in one piece, and not smearing your atoms across space and time, _although he could easily do that_."

"Ah," said Spike, subsiding, "well that's all right then."

Everyone looked expectantly at El Bombero, who scowled, and then shrugged. After all, he thought, with this accident prone bunch on his hands, Giles was bound to need another favour only too soon. "Very well," he said finally, "Agreed."

Buffybot skipped into the clearing, a wriggling mass of beetles in her hand. The monkeys ran to meet her.

Tempestra stood up, holding something behind her back. "Buffybot!"

Buffybot waved with her free hand, as the monkeys picked the beetles from the other. "Hi everyone!" She dusted her hand off, and joined them at the fire. "Is it time to go?" She looked back at the monkeys, who were squabbling over the last few beetles. She was going to miss them.

"Very nearly." Tempestra stood, and put a massive shapely arm around Buffybot's shoulders, addressing the assembled company. "I founded my Demon Girl Scout Troop to try and show that not only human girls can be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong. But here is a little Bot who has proved that you don't need to be a girl scout to be _all_ of those things." Buffybot blushed and wiggled. "From all the tales you've told me, and what I have seen for myself, Buffybot has been persistently brave and loyal and resourceful, and her heart has always been firmly in the right place ..."

"Yes!" agreed Buffybot happily. "It's in my bottom!"

Tempestra blinked, and then forged on, " ...and so," she produced a certificate and sash from behind her back, "I declare you, Buffybot, an honorary member of the First Parallel Dimension Oxford Demon Girl Scout Troop, and I find that you have earned the woodcraft, cooking, foraging, life saving and outdoor creativity badges, all in the last 24 hours, which is really quite something." She handed over the sash, and a little pile of patches to be sewn on to it. "Well done! And keep up the good work."

She began a hearty round of applause, soon picked up by Buffybot's friends, and as Buffybot tremblingly lifted her sash and put it over her head, and Spike and Acathla rolled their eyes and wondered how on earth they had found themselves in the thrall of such a bunch of sentimental saps, El Bombero waved his wand and spoke the words of power, and the jungle faded away into the brilliant California sunshine of Revello Drive.

"Wow!" said the Buffybot, blinking hard, "I had no idea birthdays could be so much fun."

_**The End**_


End file.
